<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The End of the World as We Know It by squeezenz</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887463">The End of the World as We Know It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeezenz/pseuds/squeezenz'>squeezenz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zoo (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternative Universe - Zoo, Animal Attacks, Animal pandemic, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jamie is a journalist, Mitch is a CEO</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:54:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>78,643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeezenz/pseuds/squeezenz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The title pretty much sums up this foray into the Zoo world. This is an AU featuring characters from the series, but with little in common with the original tv series storyline except as an overall concept. Due to the nature of the inspiration, the first part of the story involves a lot of sexual encounters of an explicit nature between consenting adults, plus some colorful use of expletives in places.  It's not all about sex, but that features largely in the earlier chapters until the events of Zoo start to take over and the race to save mankind begins. See notes at the end of the first chapter for more information.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jackson Oz/Chloe Tousignant, Jamie Campbell/Mitch Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410205">My Mistresses Eyes are Nothing Like the Sun</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEdgeOfDeliriousness/pseuds/Judgementaldiscontent">Judgementaldiscontent (TheEdgeOfDeliriousness)</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">
      <span>
        <span>New York City, June 30</span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <sup>
      <span class="u">
        <span>
          <span>th</span>
        </span>
      </span>
    </sup>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">
      <span>
        <span>, 2015</span>
      </span>
    </span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ATM beeped and she grabbed the plastic card from the slot while the machine printed out her balance. Snatching the inoffensive piece of paper she scanned the numbers, groaning to herself as she checked the numbers again, the same answer mocking her. Crumpling the damning evidence into a ball, she shoved it into the rubbish slot and swung away from the wall, apologizing when she bumped into the person waiting for their turn behind her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day was not getting any better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her dreams of winning the Nobel prize for journalism were a distant memory, her ability to hold down even the most basic reporting job a dismal failure. She could write, of that she had no doubt, it was just not what her editors wanted, her slant on even the most benign topic inevitably turning into an expose on corruption and pettifoggery with little or no hard evidence to back her up. She was frustrated with herself as much as the editors she had to satisfy, her inability to be content with writing up fluff pieces her ultimate downfall. And the reason for her current predicament. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of a job and flat broke. Logan was going to be so mad at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The morning was slipping into the afternoon, her thoughts still swirling in a maelstrom of confusion, her usual clarity deserting her as she wandered aimlessly. What she needed was some perspective, as her friend Chloe was fond of telling her. Finding a small coffee shop, she brought herself a drink and sandwich and chose a table where she could watch the world pass by, near the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sipping the aromatic brew, she contemplated her choices. What she really wanted to do, what she'd always wanted to do was write a novel. She had notebooks full of story ideas, just not the time or the finances to support stepping off the employment wheel to get anything written. To live she had to work, it was as plain as that. Propping her chin on her hand she gazed blindly out at the people and cars passing like blurs on the street outside. How could she earn enough money and still give herself time to write? Or, how could she find someone to support her while she wrote. She smiled to herself as one idea presented itself, only to be discarded equally as quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Find herself a wealthy patron. Logan was always telling her she was pretty, beautiful in his eyes, but she put that down to bias. They'd only been a couple for a short time, not even living together and with her work taking her away for one assignment after the other, they had seen precious little of each other, having to create time to have evenings together, let alone regular physical encounters. And anyway, Logan was still only a cadet at the police academy, hardly a high paying job sufficient to keep himself, let alone his itinerant girlfriend and her aspirations to be the next JK Rowling!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't even have his own apartment, currently flatting with several others while in training. Her own accommodation was nothing to write home about if she'd had a home to write to. It was barely big enough for a double bed, let alone having a separate bedroom. Now she'd have to give that up as well, having nothing to pay the rent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draining the last of her coffee she sighed gustily and got up to leave. She mentally ran through her short list of friends that could put her up for the night and settled on Chloe. Her friend worked for one of the embassies, at what, Jamie wasn't entirely sure, but she had a reasonable income and a nice apartment with a comfortable couch. Pulling out her phone she brought up Chloe's number and listened to it ring. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't understand,” Chloe said, using her expressive hands to indicate her confusion. “Why do you not just do as they ask? Was it such a hard assignment? Why do you always have to bring in some crackpot conspiracy theory? You baffle me, Jamie!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was supposed to be an expose on this Senator, but when I started to do the preliminary research it threw up a host of...well...indiscretions. I couldn't just ignore them, could I?” Seated at Chloe's table, a glass of wine in her hand, Jamie was feeling warm and mellow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And look where that got you?” Her French friend scoffed. “No job, no money, and nowhere to live. You would be better off squashing your scruples and just doing what is asked of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried to keep it fluffy, but the bastard couldn't keep his dick in his pants, not even with me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie looked over the table to see Chloe's understandably shocked expression. Jamie nodded. “See, how could I overlook that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are a smart woman, you could have fended him off, it wouldn't have been the first time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. You're right, I could have ignored his sweaty hands and just written about his love of golf, dog breeding, and latest trophy wife, not to mention his gold plated bathroom, but I just...couldn't.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe regarded her friend with a shrewd look on her angular face. “See...those wretched scruples again. So what are you going to do now? Hmm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shrugged, turning her head to regard the small pile of belonging sitting beside the couch. “Get a good night's sleep on your sinfully comfortable couch and hope the morning brings enlightenment?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe laughed, as Jamie hoped she would. “You are impossible, but you are most welcome to use my couch. Have you told Logan where you are?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can he do?” Jamie retorted, somewhat belligerently, the wine swirling in the bottom of her glass. “He was sorry to hear about the job, but he's no more able to help me than the man in the moon!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alas, I'm sorry for him. You are such a trial.” Chloe pursed her lips in mock admonishment before getting up to clear the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie sat back, lifting the glass to slide the last of the wine down her throat before getting up to help, the room swaying a little as she reached for her own and Chloe's glass. Together, the two girls, so dissimilar in many ways, worked to clear up the kitchen, the pair of them jostling each other and laughing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If she wasn't going to be employed in a company, she would have to become an independent reporter, submitting articles and being paid for each on its merits. It was a hard way to make a living, but she still had some friends in the business who could put leads her way. One of them was Ryan, someone she'd had a brief fling with, which later turned into friendship instead. Once she told him of her current situation he didn't berate her, just sighed, and said he'd let her know when something came up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With Chloe out all day at the embassy, Jamie was free to make use of the wifi and unlimited time to start putting some of her book ideas onto paper. Her laptop was her last big purchase, making it reasonably new so she put it to good use and started to plan her first novel. Once it was started, time flew by and she found the narrative flowed easily from her fingers to the screen, words accumulating until she had made substantial progress after only a week. Apart from a chronic lack of funds, she had everything she could ask for. Chloe was a generous host and a tolerant roommate, Jamie only having to leave when Jackson, Chloe's drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend stopped by. Jamie was sometimes invited to join them for a meal, but she always left soon after to give them privacy, often not returning to the flat until well into the wee small hours. Jackson never stayed overnight, so she just had to wait until Chloe texted her to say he was gone and she could return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan was true to his word and sent her some leads and also some interviews, the subsequent articles bringing in a nominal sum with two even getting published in notable papers. Inbetween the sporadic work, she employed her time in writing and crafting and researching, another week flying by with the story really starting to come together. One of the people she was going to interview for a science journal was speaking at a conference center, so she decided to go along and listen to the man to further her information and maybe find an angle to spice up the article. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting amongst the gaggle of press near the front of the room, she had a clear view of the men and women sitting behind the cloth draped table, her interviewee amongst them. She glanced down at the information leaflet identifying the people holding the question and answer panel, not recognizing any of the scientists except the one she was here for. They all had long lists of capitals after their names, identifying their specialty and qualifications, the one she was here to see having his own, impressive collection of initials to boast about. The panel itself was an introduction to why they were there, a press junket before the real work began, most of the upcoming talks sequestered away from any cameras or reporters. That Jamie would have a one-on-one interview was a coup, one she was not about to squander. Unknown to her, her bright hair was drawing attention from someone sitting at the back of the room, his dark eyes sweeping over her crowning glory hanging loose and wavy down her back, unlike most of the reporters alongside her, plus her casual dress marking her out. He signaled with one finger for a flunky, the man still watching the woman intently as his aide bent down to hear his instructions. That done, he got up and left the room, his aide walking down the aisle to find out the name of the reporter with the red hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie went over her notes back at the apartment. The interview had gone remarkably well, all her questions asked and answered, the man she was there to see positively over-sharing, her recorder spewing out more facts and information than needed for the article she was putting together. Several hours later, the job done and sent, she was able to put the laptop aside and sit back, stretching out the kinks before getting up to make herself something to eat and drink. As she waited for the kettle to boil her mind wandered back to the moment a man had sidled up behind her and asked for her name. Swinging around, she had swept the man with a quick appraisal before giving him what he wanted, his manner polite but not exactly forthcoming when she asked who wanted to know. She watched him walk towards the back of the room then disappear through a door, never once looking back. Shrugging off the incident she returned to listening to the panel, the whole matter consigned to the back of her brain. Now she had the luxury of considering what it all could have meant. None of the other journalists had been approached, that she was aware of, men or women, so why was she singled out? Was the information for him or someone else? Apart from asking for her name, he'd wanted nothing more, not even her number which, if he was looking to further his acquaintance with her, wouldn't that be the logical thing to do?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With no further information to feed her curiosity, she let the matter drop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her submitted interview with the scientist was well-received, Ryan telling her the magazine would be adding it to their next monthly journal. Jamie was relieved, expecting a reasonable payout from her work. Despite her former employers not appreciating her contributions, as an independent with published proof of her writing it would go a long way to re-establish her as a creditable journalist. To build on that, Ryan sent more work her way over the next few weeks, most of them interviews with notable if not uber-famous people, a lot of them technical or scientific bigwigs, a niche that Jamie seemed to be able to handle well, plus squirrel out information about them that made her articles must-reads. Slowly the earnings from her work started to trickle in, Chloe joining her in her celebrations, the two girls going on a night out, dressed to the nines and looking for fun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pair of them were as different as day and night in coloring and looks, but that didn't detract from the fact they were both gorgeous and garnered a lot of appreciative looks when they blew into a local nightclub. Chloe had on a slinky black dress that molded to her body, her blond hair up and long earrings emphasizing her slender neck, plus drawing attention to her sophisticated looks. Add her exotic accent and she was catnip on legs. In contrast, Jamie wore a soft, pastel dress that enhanced her creamy skin and gold-tinged hair, the loose waves tumbling over her bare shoulders, the folded fabric drawing attention to her petite figure and long legs. Together they were stunning. They were there to have a good time and dance the night away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The coruscating lights flashed and briefly spotlighted the heaving mass of patrons dancing to the over loud music, Chloe and Jamie, arms up in the air, heads thrown back, totally into the beat. When the current track ended, they wove a path through the bodies to reach the bar, hitching themselves onto stools to take a breather, both laughing at something together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Poor Jackson, fancy being stuck in Botswana and missing all this!” Jamie shouted, grinning as she sucked on the straw sticking up from her glass. Chloe nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He loves a good rave,” Chloe shouted back. “He'll be back next week, so I'll bring him here then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both girls swiveled on their seats to look back at the dance floor, the mass of people now jumping up and down to the pumping sound. The bartender appeared and placed another couple of drinks in front of them. “Courtesy of an admirer, Miss Campbell.” He told them before stepping away to see to another patron. Jamie felt her jaw drop and hastily looked around to see who it might be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe leaned forward. “See anyone you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shook her head. “Nobody who'd buy me a drink.” She tried to check out the men at the bar, but all were strangers, with no-one looking back to catch her eyes. “Nope.” She turned back to the bar and stared at the enigmatic cocktail sitting in front of her. Her own drink already consumed, she lifted the glass to take a sip. Chloe was staring at the flower perched on the glass, her eyes wide. Jamie rolled the flavor around her mouth and grinned at her friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is wonderful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe signaled for the bartender who approached. “Can you tell me what that is?” she pointed to Jamie's glass with its beautiful orchid attached. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Platinum Passion, a former speciality of Duvet's, back in the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe now goggled at the man, then turned to face Jamie who frowned back at her. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friend's glass sported no such flower, but still, it looked lovely, Chloe lifting it to take a sip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my God. Do you have any idea what you are drinking?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shook her head. “A very expensive, super delicious cocktail?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If what he said is correct, that is about a thousand dollars plus of alcohol and pretty flower you're sipping,” Chloe told her, her expression incredulous. “Even this is not your average drink, mon ami. If it came from someone who knows the recipe, or maybe the original drink creator, then it will be unbelievable pricey!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie stared back at her, not blinking. “You're shitting me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe shook her head, her earrings dancing. “I am not. Duvet's used to have the most expensive cocktails in New York. They've been shut as a restaurant for years, since the end of the two-thousands, I'm pretty sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie glanced down at her glass. “So...if they're are shut and have been for years, how is this here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe shrugged. “Maybe whoever sent you this has the man who originally made it working for him? I don't know.” She once more waved the bartender over. When the man leant forward to hear what she said, she asked the question. “Did you make these?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bartender laughed and leaned back. “No way. We don't even have half the ingredients needed to make it, let alone the recipe. These aren't even in our own glasses.” He swung away again, leaving the two women staring after him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie made to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, this whatever it is...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Platinum Passion,” Chloe interrupted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that. Someone went to all the trouble to bring it here, in their own glasses, and present it to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And they know your name,” Chloe added. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie leaned forward, keeping her voice low as she could given the level of the music. “How the hell did he know I was here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stared at each other, eyes wide. Almost in sync, they both turned to survey the room, looking for anyone who might be watching them. Once more it proved a bust, no particular person appearing to be watching them, male or female or even paying them any marked attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning back to face the bar, Jamie pushed the drink away from her, her pleasure in the drink all gone. Chloe sipped her own cocktail, watching her friend over the rim of the glass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, don't waste it.” She pressed her lips together when Jamie gave her a hard look. “Okay, so someone may be followed you here...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone with a plump wallet,” Jamie interjected, eyeing the cocktail as if it was laced with poison. Chloe laid a hand on hers where it rested on the countertop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look. Let's finish these drinks and we'll leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shook her head. “ Fuck it. We came here to have a good time. I'm not going to let some creepy rich stalker spoil my fun.” She lifted the glass, taking the Orchid off the side before downing the remaining liquid in a single gulp, an insulting way to drink such an expensive luxury. “Come on. I want to dance.” Grabbing her friend's hand, Jamie pulled Chloe back into the fray of undulating bodies on the dance floor, the music drowning out the Frenchwoman's protest in the process. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From the side of the room, the dark-eyed man smiled at the two women now dancing together on the packed floor, his gifts left discarded at the crowded bar, the forlorn orchid a bright spot on the dark marble counter. Wending his way through the people, he plucked the orchid off the benchtop, the barman giving him a nod when he appeared to collect the empty glasses. With the flower tucked into his leather jacket pocket, the man found his way towards the rear, exiting the club with only a single glance back to watch the flame-haired slender figure thoroughly enjoying herself with her friend. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he waited for the town car to slide smoothly into the curb, a few flashes from paparazzi camera's going off following him as he settled into the back seat, the car door shutting firmly behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>X x x x</p>
<p>End of Chapter One.</p>
<p>Notes:</p>
<p>
  <span>My story was entirely inspired by the short snippet of fandom written by JudgmentalDiscontent (The Edge of Deliriousness) summitted to AO3 way back on 19/10/2017. It was only an enticingly short chapter of 1535 words, Titled – My Mistresses Eyes are Nothing Like The Sun - but it struck a chord and stuck with me in the years since. At the start of this year, I revisited some of the Zoo stories archived and this one inevitably popped up. I hadn't written much recently but this short story still called to me. I have no idea how the original author intended for their story to go, but I have used it as a springboard for setting up my own fanfic for my two favorite characters from Zoo – Mitch and Jamie. The original chapter doesn't feature until chapter five, and I have altered very little of the original prose, just incorporated it into my storyline. I hope, if the original author ever reads my efforts, that they appreciate how it inspired what I now lay before you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I have used a different story heading from the original, as my story has, quite possibly, a completely different premise from the original intention, but that aside, I hope it entertains. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I haven't forgotten my unfinished story – Safari – and hope to complete that before too much more time passes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jamie frowned down at her laptop, her first edit of chapters causing her some headaches. She was happy with the story so far, but even to her eyes, it was lacking something. Possibly it was the pacing, or maybe something about the characters was missing. Either way, she was having to do some serious slash and burn to her work to correct the omission. Her phone chimed and she picked it up, glad of the respite from her editing. She stared at the text in surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have a proposition for you. </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words were simple but incongruous. She checked the number, noting it was using the same communications server as she did. The number was not one she recognized, ruling out Ryan and Logan, or any of her usual friends. Intrigued, she replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What sort of proposition?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited, the reply not taking long to arrive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One that will be mutually pleasurable...if you are game.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared at the screen. Wow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why me? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She held her breath.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She dropped the phone, her fingers suddenly numb. After a second or two she picked the phone up again and typed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I know you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The text was quick to reply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingers flew over the digital keyboard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How did you know I'd even respond?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I know you, Jamie. I know what you look like and I like what I see.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked up and stared around the room, suddenly feeling exposed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that's not creepy at all. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She dropped the phone onto the arm of the chair, her fingers coming up to cover her mouth. What the hell was she doing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You've gone a long time without anyone appreciating you, Jamie. Let me show you just how much I could appreciate you. Go answer the door.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sudden knock at the apartment door made her jump, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. “What the fuck?” Getting up off the armchair she padded over to the apartment door and listened, hearing nothing. She checked the spyhole and saw what looked like a uniformed delivery man standing outside, a bunch of flowers in one hand, a parcel in the other. “Who are you?” she called out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man peered directly into the spyhole. “Delivery for Miss Jamie Campbell?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie stood back, her hands braced on the shut door. “What company are you with?” She heard the man sigh gustily as if this was a regular occurrence. “Corporate Couriers, Ma'am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie worried her bottom lip, then snicked off the lock and pulled the door open as far as the chain would allow. “Who sent those?” she flicked a finger at the flowers and package. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The delivery guy looked back impassively. “No idea, Ma'am. I just deliver them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie nodded, then undid the chain, opening the door only wide enough to allow the bouquet and box to be passed through. That done the man instantly swung away and marched off down the corridor to the lifts, not expecting or asking for a tip. Jamie shut the door and locked it, the perfume from the flowers wafting up and enveloping her in its heady scent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the flowers were in shades of cerise through to apricot, with touches of gold or pale yellow mixed in. There was little greenery to detract from the overall color scheme. Gold ribbons tied it all together, the bunch held together with gold-lined paper, embossed with a pattern of swirling cream and pale gold. A small card was wedged between two stems and she moved back to the armchair, putting the parcel down on the coffee table before picking the card out and reading it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My homage to the color of your hair and the scent of your skin.” She read out aloud. Flicking the card over she looked for anything to identify the sender, finding it frustratingly blank, not even a florist's name to indicate where they came from. Laying the bunch of flowers down carefully on the carpet she picked up the box, giving it a small shake. Again she inspected it for any indication of what shop it came from, or who sent it, frowning when it remained as anonymous as the flowers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peeling off the plain, cream-colored paper, she lifted the lid off the box and surveyed the delicate lace garment it contained. “Wow.” It was a beautiful pale peach-colored teddy, heavily edged in lace, the fabric holding it together obviously silk, smooth and slippery to the touch. Hooking a finger into each thin strap she held it up, the garment completely see-through and as delicate as a butterfly's wing. Her phone chimed, making her jump. Dropping the negligee back into the box she picked up her phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There could be more of that if you take up my challenge?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared at the words. Now was the time to either shut this bizarre conversation down or maybe, just maybe see where it led. She chewed her lip, contemplating the risks, her eyes flicking to the obviously expensive flowers and undergarment. Finally, she typed an answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm not a prostitute. Thank you for the flowers, they are lovely but I think you have the wrong girl. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pressed send and drew in a shuddering breath. Had she made the right choice? Would she regret this later on? A reply appeared at once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Never thought you were, Jamie. Your circumstances suggest you are currently unable to support yourself. Am I right?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie promptly replied.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What if I am? What is that to you?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She settled herself more comfortably on the cushions. Obviously, whoever he was wasn't taking no for an answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you take up my challenge I can change all that for you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gulped, her mind taking her back to the coffee shop and her list of options, one being to find a patron. If this was legit, she would have found herself a sugar daddy instead. Could she, would she take that risk?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have a boyfriend.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited for his reply, the phone held clutched in both her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Does he satisfy you? I can. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie rolled her eyes and huffed. Ego much? Why was she still typing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What is your challenge?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reply took longer and she wondered if she'd scared him off, but sure enough, a message popped up on her screen.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want you for my mistress. The agreement is for one month of your time, you will be available at any time I message you, whatever the time of day or night. You will be expected to respond promptly and be on time. A room will be arranged in a hotel, and you will have a key for access. There are conditions. You will always arrive first, be prepared for when I arrive, but you will need to wear a blindfold. At no time will you know who I am. You will be allowed to stay the night, but you will never wake up and find me still there. You will never suffer an injury under my care and safe sex is a given. You will find that I am a generous patron.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie swallowed hard, reading his reply over and over again. With shaking fingers, whether from fear or excitement, she typed out her answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again she threw the phone onto the cushions, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, shocked at her own temerity. What the hell was she thinking? The phone chimed and she peered at his response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Four Seasons Tribeca, room 2412, use the key card in the box, 8pm tonight. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She let out a little scream, then leant forward to pick up the lingerie box, ripping out the tissue lining to find a small gold plastic door card taped to the box lining. “Shit.” Grabbing up the phone she rapidly typed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How did you know I'd say yes?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited and was quickly rewarded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Intuition. See you tonight.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared at the screen, mentally screaming at herself for agreeing to the bizarre agreement. Room at a snazzy hotel, unknown and unseen man wanting her, his identity to remain hidden from her. What the fuck? She started to laugh, covering her face with her hands and rocking on the cushions. Hysteria blotting out fear as she chewed over the situation, rereading the conversation, scrolling back and forth so as not to miss a single word. When she looked back over it, there was nothing given away to clue her about who he was or what he intended. Did he just want her for sex? And if he did, why her? If he was a wealthy and connected, he would have the pick of any of the high-end escort services to take care of his needs. Why pick an unemployed journalist? Where could she have come under his notice? That was impossible to answer, the options too many to count. What if he turned out to be really old or grossly fat and ugly. Well, ugly didn't feature because she wouldn't be seeing his face, apparently. And why the cloak and dagger? Was he someone so popular he had to hide his identity, keep his name secret? Was he married and this was some kink for him to play the field rather than have an affair with someone he knew? Her brain felt like it was going to explode with all the questions wanting an answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>...8pm tonight. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn't giving her any chance to back out, making their first meeting in a few hours. Was she really going to do this? Lowering her hands she once more went over the arrangement before jumping up from the seat, gathering up the flowers and the negligee, including the box and galloping off to put them on the kitchen bench before finding a vase to put the flowers in water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Chloe came home from work, she found a small selection of the flowers sitting on her kitchen bench, their scent filling the apartment. Of her friend, there was no sign except a note saying she would be out most of the night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sniffing the flowers, Chloe reached for her phone to call Jackson.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sat in the center of the expansive, king-sized bed and rubbed her sweating palms on the cover again. Her stomach was doing flip flops as she waited for the arrival of her mystery man. She was dressed in the silk negligee, the fabric doing little to hide her charms, but fitting her figure perfectly. Some of the giant bouquet of flowers were arranged nearby, a bunch in the main room, more in the bedroom. They delicately scented the room, the formerly closed buds opening wide in the warm atmosphere. She had prepared herself as best as she could, showering, waxing her legs, and using only the minimum of perfume or makeup. Her hair fluffed out around her shoulders like a gossamer cloak, her eyes huge as she waited for the inevitable knock at the door. The hotel room was luxurious, her quick explore showing off the view from the 24th floor and the amenities available. The bedroom with its sinfully large bed was tastefully appointed with crisp pillows and serviced with an ensuite to die for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The click of the apartment door opening sent her nerves climbing to the roof. The door closed and she strained to hear anything. Suddenly the suite lights went out and she jerked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Switch off the room lights but leave on one of the bed-side lights, then put on the blindfold, Jamie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was disconcerting to hear her name spoken by a disembodied man standing somewhere outside the bedroom, fear spiking as she scrambled off the bed and flipped the switch, plunging the room into a semi gloom, only the soft light of the lamp casting shadows over her now. Grabbing the blindfold, she tied it around her head with shaking hands before climbing once more onto the bed covers, kneeling to await whatever happened next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm ready,” she called out, clenching her hands into fists and resting them on her thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you are.” The voice replied, sending shivers of dread and anticipation down her limbs. She knelt there listening to him move about the room, his shoes hitting the plush carpet with a thump, making her jump. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Relax, Jamie, you won't find this at all unpleasant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tried to unclench her hands and calm her breathing which had become a little hectic, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sorry, I'm just a little...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nervous? Understandable. I promise you will not regret being here.” His voice was low and a little gruff, flowing over her senses like liquid caramel. He was no youngster, but not old either, something that helped to relax her a little bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want me to do?” she asked, turning her head in the direction where the rustle of clothing seemed to be coming from. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lay down on the bed, Jaimie, just where you are. You look lovely in that silk, by the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt the blush heating her skin. “Thank you.” She shifted so she was laying in the center of the bed on her back, one leg bent at the kneed, her hands coming to rest, one on the pillow beside her head, the other resting across her middle, elbow on the bed cover. The sound of clothing being discarded had ended, the bed dipping on her left side as a body joined her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can take the blindfold off now, Jamie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did as ordered, blinking to find the room plunged into darkness, not even any light from the window with the curtains now drawn. She turned to the left to look at the man now occupying the bed with her, his shape just discernible, his features entirely clothed in shadows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you?” she whispered, feeling the heat coming from his body, a faint aroma of expensive cologne overlaid with an earthy smell of pure male. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone who thinks you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. I'm going to touch you now...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even as the words left his mouth, a hand started to stroke down her arm, her initial jerk of surprise quickly subdued. She still trembled, unable to control her nerves, but when he did nothing more than stroke down her, down and back up to her shoulder she started to relax. Soon the touch of his lips on her skin joined the brush and pull of his fingers, those same lips moving from her arm to her chest, finding and surrounding the tip of her breast, the nipple rising to the warm lap of his tongue through the transparent silk. She shifted to press more of her breast into his mouth, his lips parting to draw more of the offered flesh against his tongue, her fingers reaching up to stroke over his head, finding the hair silky to the touch, short but luxuriant. She dragged her nails over his scalp and he murmured against her body. Emboldened she explored his nape, his shoulders, smoothing her hand over his velvety skin, encountering the occasional scar, ridged and rope-like under her fingertips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands were stroking her all over, the darkness heightening the sensations, her mind supplying images of them, broad and strong, molding her like clay, whispering over the silky negligee while his mouth mapped her torso, dipping into her navel. She drew her knees up when he reached the juncture of her thighs, suddenly nervous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped moving and the muscles of his back bunched under her hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sorry,” she apologized, drawing in a trembling breath. She felt a puff of air near her face, seconds before a warm pair of lips encountered her own, the tip of a tongue coming out to part her lips, enticing her to join in the kiss with him. She did, her tentative foray allowing him to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deep to open her further, hands lifting her up, his lips pushing her down so she arched against him, hands clutching at his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kiss seemed to go on for hours, his lips mapping her face, eyelids, brows, and cheeks before returning to engage her mouth, drawing her out and forcing her to focus on what he was doing, her fear burning away in the face of his lovemaking. She reached up to touch his face, encountering a faint stubble of whiskers, his mouth teasing her fingertips, sucking them inside his mouth to suckle and tongue each one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath smelt minty, like her own, no hint of alcohol present, or tobacco. His skin smelt clean too, his chest hair brushing against her own, teasing her breasts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As much as I think this scrap of lace is lovely, let's take it off.” His low growl sent shivers down her spine, but she sat up to allow him to peel the straps down her arms so that her chest was exposed, sliding the silk down her torso so it sat bunched around her waist. “Right off.” He ordered, reaching between her legs to unsnap the closure and start to peel the fabric down her legs to her feet. Feeling his hands against her sex had been shocking and arousing, his possession, his ownership of her body starting to excite her. Now that she was naked, he started once more to use his lips and mouth to explore her body, going past the chaste limit of her torso to now encompass her abdomen and thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When his mouth fastened on her inner thigh, after his hands pressed her legs apart, she almost lifted off the bed, his broad fingers keeping her grounded as he positioned himself to better access her opening. Once she subsided he pressed forward, head between her thighs, tongue lapping at her core. Jamie gave in to his ministrations, her head burrowed back into the thick pillows, hands grabbing at the sheets on either side, her hips moving to press more of herself against his mouth and wicked tongue. Sounds and words tripped past her lips, her appreciation of his talents making him smile, kissing her from her mons to her back passage, his hands pushing her thighs back to further expose her to his exploration and delectation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In past experiences, what he was doing had been a cursory side trip for most of her lovers, usually payment in kind for her going down on them, but never to the degree her dark seducer was taking it, her body racked with shivers of pleasure bordering on pain, her legs spread wide to invite him to delve deeper, harder, more thoroughly. Her orgasm overwhelmed her, his hands preventing her from moving from the exposed position he had her in, her body convulsing with shudders, Jamie keening her pleasure, gasping and panting her appreciation. At length he released her, replacing his head from between her thighs with his body, his latex covered erection unerringly finding the entrance to her body and plunging in, drawing back only slightly before burying himself to the hilt. Jamie lifted her still trembling legs to wrap them around his waist, holding him as he plunged repeatedly into her body, lifting her hips off the bed to take him in further. To her surprise a second orgasm was building inside her, her clit stimulated again by the impact of his body against her flesh, the friction bringing it on so that she cried out, his own climax hitting soon after, his turgid length pumping into her in a jerking motion until they both relaxed, sinking into the mattress, still connected but thoroughly sated. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie awoke to daylight seeping around the edges of the dark curtains, illuminating just enough to show her lover of the night was gone. Her questing fingers found the rumpled bedding but no more. The faint sounds of the city outside intruded enough to rouse her from slumber and then swing her legs over the side of the bed and sit there for a moment, taking it all in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking back at the sheets she could see several flower petals scattered amongst the folds, her memory supplying the feel of the velvety soft leaves dragging over her sensitized skin, followed closely by his mouth moistening her skin before blowing on it to make it tingle. Whoever he was, he was a consummate master of pleasuring a woman, as well as himself. She wrapped her arms about her naked torso, hugging herself as she replayed snippets of the night's activities, brief naps between bouts until they sprawled, exhausted sometime in the early hours. Now she was alone. On the bedside table, a single flower laying across it, sat a plump looking envelope. She slowly reached out for it, conflicted as to how she felt about seeing what was inside. Curiosity won out and she lifted the flap to see inside, her mouth opening into a round shape to see the number and the denomination of notes there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit.” She whispered under her breath. On the floor beside her feet was the apricot negligee, alongside the discarded blindfold. Leaving the envelope on the bed, she padded to the bathroom and took a luxurious shower, using the products freely available and wrapping herself in one of the plush towels. A few minutes later she was putting the envelope into her satchel, slinging it crosswise across her body and stuffing the lingerie into the small overnight bag she'd brought with her. A quick look about the room confirmed she hadn't forgotten anything before she left the room and its well-used bed for housekeeping to tidy up. It was still early, but she donned her sunglasses anyway, keeping her head up and not meeting anyone's glance as she marched through the Four Seasons lobby and out into the street. She instantly found a cab waiting for her, the doorman holding the back passenger seat door open for her. With a muttered thank you, she piled in and the cab took off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You did what?” Chloe's eyebrows were approaching her hairline, her expression incredulous. “Do you have a death wish?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie sipped her wine and waited for her friend to calm down. Chloe stomped back and forth in front of the couch, her hands continually moving to express her horror at her friend's actions. At length she wound down and flopped onto the comfortable cushions of the couch, staring in bewilderment at Jamie as if she had two heads. Almost at once Chloe sat up straight, rested her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together in front of her lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. So. You had anonymous sex with a complete stranger.” She waited for Jamie to nod her head. “And you have no idea who he is, not the faintest clue?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time Jamie shook her head. “He smells nice, has a great cock, knows how to kiss, and brushes his teeth.” She hadn't yet made mention of the money, only the event itself. Chloe gave her a hard stare before reaching for her neglected glass on the coffee table and taking a large gulp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you at least use protection?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie rolled her eyes at her friend. “Of course.” She kept her expression bland, not being entirely honest with Chloe. Yes, there had been a condom the first time, but after that, things got a little hazy and she couldn't entirely testify that her lover had used one subsequently. He'd left nothing behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe was watching her closely, her eyes narrowed. Jamie stared back, trying to look unfazed by the interrogation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this going to just be a one-off?” The Frenchwoman asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie again shook her head. “I don't exactly know when, but he'll text me when he wants me again.” She winced at how that sounded. Chloe just threw her hands up and muttered darkly under her breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mon Dieu! Tell me, Jamie,” Chloe wet her lips. “...is he paying for this availability, this arrangement?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friend had the grace to blush, color flooding her pale face, answering for her. Chloe sat back and folded her arms, scowling. “So now you are a prostitute!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not. It's just a one-time thing...” She saw Chloe's eye roll. “Well, a month-long thing...that's all. He's very generous and not at all weird, at least where the sex is concerned. It will give me a chance to get back on my feet, Chloe.” Jamie paused, reaching out a hand pleadingly. “I thought you'd be glad I won't be forever on your couch, cramping your style with Jackson.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe chewed on her lip before replying. “I'm just worried for you, mon ami. It's all so creepy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie had been contemplating her knees but lifted her held to give her friend a smug smile. “He sure has an oral fixation that I'm not complaining about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe once more looked shocked, but that quickly changed to an answering smile. “Was he really that good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie leaned forward. “Better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you going to do about Logan?” Chloe asked, her expression somber. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie pursed her lips. “Complete the arrangement then pretend it never happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn't some assignment, Jamie. How are you going to explain your sudden cash flow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe watched the differing expressions chase themselves over her friend's face before she spoke. “What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Four weeks is no time at all. If he asks I'll say I had some work published via Ryan. He won't query that, he already knows all there is to know regarding my situation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Secrets are never easy to keep from people who care about you. If he ever found out...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, he won't from me. You have to promise me, Chloe!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Frenchwoman stared solemnly at her friend. “Cross my heart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie's phone chose that moment to chime, at the same time a knock was heard at the apartment door. Chloe got up to answer it, Jamie staring down at her hand, reading the text over and over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Get plenty of rest. Tomorrow at 8.30pm. Come with an appetite and the blindfold. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe re-entered the sitting room, half-hidden behind another extravagant bouquet. “There's a box as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie gazed at the flowers for a few seconds, then typed out her reply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>See you tomorrow night.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie sat relaxed and only a little nervous in the middle of the bed. The box had contained a collection of underthings that she was now wearing, from the wisp of lace bra that did nothing to hide her nipples, to the sheer, barely-there stockings that encased her legs. Over her eyes she wore the blindfold, her anticipation ramping up with each passing minute. The sound of the hotel room door opening made her suck in a sharp breath, then she consciously made herself relax. She heard him enter the room, the rustle of him removing a jacket loud to her ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you are hungry, I brought us an appetizer.” His voice washed over her making her skin prickle. She heard him move around the room, then the sound of lids being taken off several containers, a tasty aroma filling the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That smells good,” she told him, not moving except to turn her head towards the delicious smells. A pair of warm lips covered hers and they kissed, a leisurely embrace in no hurry to end. When it did she leant forward as if to recapture his, but he pulled back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look wonderful, Jamie. Are you warm enough?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded. “Toasty. Are you happy for me to stay here? Or do you want me to be somewhere else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We'll start here and see where it takes us.” His voice was low pitched and sultry, sending tingles skittering down her spine. It was a voice she was rapidly becoming excited by, her underwear already moist just from listening to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the next half an hour she was fed tiny spoonfuls of food, her lover not always telling her what it was, sometimes asking her if she liked it, how it tasted, how it made her feel. With her eyes covered, her other senses came into play, the smells and tastes of the morsels sometimes easy to guess, other times just something that melted against her tongue without her knowing what it was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the game ended, he kissed her again, her hands gravitating upwards to smooth over his face, discovering that he was wearing glasses before tangling her fingers in his hair, his own hands cupping her face or cradling her head to angle it better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What color are your eyes?” she asked, turning her head to where he was clearing away the food containers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it matter?” he replied, not angrily, but not giving an inch either. Jamie shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really, I just wondered.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She heard more rustling then her hand was taken in his and she was guided to get off the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Follow me, Jamie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed a little. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still blindfolded, she was led into the sitting room and guided to sit, then lay down on a tabletop, the surface cold against her back. She hissed a little at the contact but submitted without complaint. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about the cold, but it will warm up very soon.” His breath washed over her before his mouth once more latched on to hers, his hand stroking and fondling her body, tweaking her nipples into hard points while his lips and tongue made love to her mouth. He left her briefly and she felt his hands on her thighs pulling her to the edge of the table, lifting her legs to drape them over his bare shoulders, bringing her core close to his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Relax and enjoy this, Jamie. I know I will.” Seconds later and his mouth was at her center, the insubstantial panties quickly becoming soaked on both sides, Jamie gasping with the first contact, her internal muscles clenching in anticipation of the pleasure to come. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm glad you don't shave your beautiful hair all off.” He murmured between kisses on her inner thighs, his breath hot against her quivering skin. Jamie didn't answer, just stretched her arms above her head, relishing his attention. Soon the silky panties were down her legs and cast away, her thighs pushed apart to allow him access to all her secret places. She writhed under his ministrations, driven wild by his tongue, his fingers seeking and finding her pleasure center so that this time she came much sooner, moaning throatily as her climax swept over her, her skin flushing a rosy pink. Her lover gazed at her body, licking his lips and appreciating the depth of color now painting her flesh. Rising to his feet, his own sex painfully engorged, he grasped her thighs again and sunk deep into her body, Jamie's squeak of surprise quickly turning into a groan of pleasure. He plowed her at a leisurely pace, watching himself drag out and push back into her body, the silk stocking rubbing against his chest, his head turning to bring one of her feet to his face, the silk glad toes sucked into his mouth and lavished with attention. Neither of them lasted long, his hips moving rapidly to fill the body displayed before him, his cock swelling before unloading inside her, hips jerking to force as much flesh inside. Breathing heavily, he left himself seated fully but reached down to flick the little nubbin of swollen flesh at the apex of where his cock filled her. Jamie arched her back, the ripples of her internal muscles grabbing and holding his cock, milking him for her pleasure. At length she lay still on the tabletop, still wearing the blindfold and his expensive lingerie, her chest rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow.” she breathed, her lips parted as she sucked in much-needed air. He felt himself soften and pulled back to allow his body to leave hers, a rush of fluid following his exit. He had worn a condom that first time, but since that he had left off using one despite his promise to her. It wasn't because he wanted to put her at risk, far from it. He knew he was clean, and that she was too. No fact about Jamie was unknown to him, her medical history and life laid bare to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Moving to the side of the dining table he slipped his hands under her, gathering her limp body up into his arms, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck as he carried her back into the bedroom, switching the lights off as he went. Once more his identity was hidden by the dark, his fingers coming up to release the blindfold from around her head, her glorious hair encasing his hands for a brief moment before he laid down beside her, pulling the covers up over them both. Jamie snuggled into his body, her head cradled on his shoulder. The food and sex combined to send her into a doze, his arm gathering her into his body, holding her while heart rates settled and lungs ceased to labor. At length, they both slept, a brief respite until it was time to engage again in their strange arrangement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie checked her phone again, worrying her lip as she checked the date of his last text. After their last meeting, there had been nothing, no flowers, no boxes, no text. She was now heading to the second week of the arrangement and she worried she'd done something wrong, the lack of a message making her nervous. The editing of her book was coming along well, so well she was starting to research ways to get it in front of a publisher. Alternatively, she pondered about publishing herself on a platform like Amazon. Getting up from the table she padded into the kitchen to get a drink, her brow furrowing as she stirred the teabag around in the mug. Her phone rang and she raced to the couch, her drink abandoned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey. I hope you've been resting up. I plan to keep you very busy from tonight onwards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart was tripping and doing flip-flops in her chest. “I thought we'd only communicate via text.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His low chuckle made her skin prickle. “You'd rather I didn't call you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shook her head, a smile curling her lips. “No. No. I'm just surprised. I like hearing your voice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you okay for tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded, feeling her toes curl in anticipation. “Oh, yes. I'm ready when you are.” She winced at how eager she sounded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good girl. I'll see you at the hotel at eight o'clock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Bye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared at the screen, still feeling that final word, barely a growl, in her bones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few minutes later came a knock at the apartment door. Almost bouncing in excitement, Jamie rushed over and flung the door wide, the delivery man rearing back a little at her enthusiastic welcome. He held out the flowers and the box, a very small one this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie took them and beamed at him. “Thank you.” before slamming the door shut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bouquet was in all the shades of pink, from the deepest to the lightest. The small card with a handwritten note stated - “A poor attempt to mimic the colors of your skin when you come for me.” She read it again, the message taking a second to sink in, then she felt a hot tide of color heat her cheeks. Self consciously she looked at the bouquet and considered how she'd allowed herself to be seen by so complete a stranger in such intimate situations, no part of her body hidden from him. Admittedly the flowers were divine, but she still squirmed a little to think that was the color her body looked like when she was in the throes of a really good fuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The box yielded another scrap of silk and lace underwear, this time in a deep cerise, barely wide enough to cover her intimate parts, the panties designed to allow easy access at the crotch. There was also a beautiful gold chain with a diamond pendant that hung low enough to nestle between her breasts, the stone sparkling when the light hit it. If this carried on, she'd end up with a wonderful selection of very expensive underthings and a nice collection of jewelry at the end of four weeks. As well as enjoying a very exciting and titillating sexual experience she'd remember until she was old and grey. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at her kneeling on the bed in her usual position, the tiny scrap of silk the only covering on her body, the diamond winking from where it hung between her pert breasts, moving as she breathed. The blindfold was in place and he sighed, wanting more than anything to see her eyes. He knew their color, but he wanted to see them sparkle with passion and feel them caress him, as his did to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look beautiful, Jamie.” He said, switching off the light in the main room while leaving the bedroom still lit. He watched her hand reach up to caress the pendant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you...for this and all your gifts.” She replied, her voice husky. “The flowers were especially lovely.” He saw a faint blush seep into her cheeks, her lips lifting in a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm glad you enjoy them. You certainly do them justice.” He unzipped his pants and let them fall, kicking them off before removing his socks and boxers, his cock already hard for her. “You've let me do what I want, so far, Jamie. So, for a change, I'll ask you what you want to do tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her small gasp of surprise parted her lips. “Oh. Um.” She fiddled with the pendant again. “Would you like me to go down on you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would like that very much. You'll have to manage in the dark, but I'm sure you're more than up for that challenge. Wait until I tell you to remove the blindfold.” He got onto the bed, pressing the remote to close the curtains and switch off the lights before removing his glasses and placing them on the bedside table along with the room remote. Plunged into darkness he lifted his hand to rest behind his head on the pillows, his elbow bent. “You can take off the blindfold now, Jamie. I'm all yours.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie tilted her face up into the stream of warm water, the sweet-smelling shampoo sluicing down her body to puddle at her feet. She had awoken alone, as usual, and as expected, although she was starting to want more than just fantastic sex in the dark. She chuffed, laughing at herself – just fantastic sex in the dark, boy, not greedy much! It was the end of the second week of her 'contract' and she had nothing to complain about. Their physical relationship was the best she'd ever had, casting everyone past and present completely in the shade. She was gathering a nice wardrobe of sexy underwear, her bank balance was looking healthier than it had in years, she was seriously thinking of moving out from Chloe's apartment, and Ryan had called, sounding her out about another assignment for her – an interview with some high faluting CEO of a pharmaceutical company, or something like that. Life was actually on the up for Jamie Campbell, for once. Her book was taking shape nicely, her second edit seeing her much more satisfied with the pacing and character development, so what did she have to be dissatisfied about?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her lover was considerate, generous, playful, patient, knew his way around a woman's body like an expert, had a dick that filled her to the brim and hands that drove her wild. So, he didn't want her to see his face, she knew there was nothing wrong with it, no obvious deformities or none that her fingers had found. He did have scars over a large percentage of his torso and back, but those could be from a car accident or something similar. Her fingers also told her he had a full head of hair, a lightly furred chest with a glory line to his crotch, whiskers that wouldn't stop growing and he wore glasses, so he was possibly short-sighted, not exactly crimes or disqualifiers. Jamie liked to think she was pretty open-minded when it came to physical attractiveness and his voice was so gravelly and growly she just melted when he spoke. Taking all that onboard, why could she not be satisfied with his attributes and not want for more? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping her hair in one of the towels before wiping down her limbs and rubbing the water off her back. Naked, she stepped in front of the mirror and frowned at herself. Something else that she'd noticed – he didn't wear a ring. Of course, he could just take it off before meeting with her, and one of his ears were pierced, but he never wore a stud when he was with her. She wondered if he had any tattoos. He hadn't commented on her's, but he must have seen it at some stage, the blue genie from Disney's Aladdin sitting on her shoulder for all to see. Certainly, he'd mapped every inch of her skin, kissing her freckles wherever the sun had touched. Feeling a prickle of goosebump she shook herself and started to dress, putting the ridiculous crotchless undies on as a laugh under her slacks. Gathering up her gear she did a quick check of the bedroom for anything left behind, her purse already holding his last 'gift' and the note wrapped around it. It had merely said 'Thank you' and advised he'd be out of town for a few days, her internal muscles tensing as she pondered having to go so long before seeing him again. As she closed the hotel room door behind her, she laughed again before heading for the lift at the end of the corridor. She hadn't really seen him once so far, let alone again. Jamie wondered if this was what it was like for someone who was blind, having all the sensations, but not knowing what their lover looked like other than by touch. Humming to herself she pondered that question all the way to the ground floor, her attention all on her internal thoughts, blind to anyone around her, the doorman tipping his hat and hailing a cab for her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jackson Oz watched Jamie's progress as she crossed the lobby, deep in thought. He had recognized the girl, his girlfriend's guest, as soon as she exited the lift. Curious, he was going to hail her but Jamie looked so intent on whatever was occupying her mind, he let her go. Why would she be staying at the Four Season's when she was still sleeping on Chloe's couch? The hotel was not the cheapest and wasn't Jamie supposed to be broke? He frowned as he considered his sweet girl was being taken for a ride by her unscrupulous, scrounging friend, but all he knew of Jamie would seem to refute that or so he thought. Maybe she'd just been there for a journalistic assignment, meeting someone to do an interview or article about. That was possible, he supposed. But no, Jamie had been dressed in semi-corporate casual instead of her usual jeans and t-shirt, carrying a small case like an overnight bag, her purse hanging off her shoulder, one hand on the strap. She looked like someone who'd spent the night, plus she didn't pause to go to the reception desk to pay her bill if she had been staying there. Unable to resolve his misgivings, Jackson sent a text to Chloe, asking her if she was free to see him that night. He'd ask her, she'd know what was going on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe patted Jackson's arm. “I know what Jamie was doing there, but I'm not at liberty to tell you, mon amour.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it is none of our business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She's sleeping on your couch and apparently at a swanky hotel. Of course it's your business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe snuggled up against him on the couch, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “I appreciate you worrying about me, but she is doing nothing wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jackson sat and fumed for a moment, his thoughts becoming distracted by the hand rubbing softly up and down his tense thigh. He breathed in, Chloe's perfume – so French, so her – muddled his thinking and he turned to press a kiss to her fair hair. “So you're not being taken advantage of...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Non.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...and you know exactly what is going on and you're fine with it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oui.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” He let it sink in a little, the soft body beside him making him think of other things they could be doing. Despite that, he felt he had to be sure. “I just think...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe sat up, pulling away from him to look him in the eye. “Is this the only reason you came to see me? Because if it is, I will have to cut this short to get an early night.” An arched eyebrow sent a clear message and Jackson swallowed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. That wasn't the only reason I came over,” he muttered, resigning himself to let the matter of Jamie's behavior drop. “I wanted to see you. Can we go to bed now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe smiled, blinding him with its brilliance. “I thought you'd never ask.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie couldn't believe how long three days could feel when you are desperate to hear from someone, even when you don't know who that someone is. She hadn't exactly been hanging up behind the door waiting, but still – how long did a business trip take? Her book was going well, ideas for a sequel already forming and being noted down, Logan was happy, their 'date night' on Friday ending successfully, at least for him. With her newfound capital, she had sprung for a motel room for them to enjoy, Logan taking on face value her ability to pay for one from her ongoing assignment. The romp between the sheets had left the young man completely satisfied, but Jamie was not. Whatever she thought she had with Logan was not a patch on what she was having with her unknown sugar daddy. Sure, Logan was physically younger than her mystery lover, but that was the only plus side, in everything else the younger man came up lacking. Jamie listened to him softly snoring beside her and tried to think of a way to end what little relationship they had left. Staring into the semi-gloom of the motel room she brought to mind all her encounters to date, bringing to her mind's eye all the things she knew about her unknown sex partner, the way he made her feel. Despite, or maybe because of the unusual nature of their encounters to date, she felt she knew him better than the young man sleeping beside her. Was she crazy? They were going into their third week of meeting at the Four Season, less than a month, only a handful of days if you added them up, could she really be that needy? Was he really that good?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All she knew was that she wanted him to call, wanted him back in her arms, his cock filling her up and his mouth marking her as his. Was it too much to ask?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie was running on nerves alone, checking her phone repeatedly like a crazy woman. When the phone rang she jumped, swiping to answer it, her voice breathless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss me?” His gravelly voice was a balm to her jangled nerves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no idea how much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You on for tonight? I thought we might try and push some boundaries?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie bit her lip, already excited at the prospect. “What do you have in mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing I don't think you won't enjoy. Nine o'clock?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yes please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you then, Jamie girl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bye,” she breathed into the receiver, waiting for the dial tone to buzz in her ear before shutting it off. God, she shook her head, going over the brief conversation. If he didn't know it already, those few responses would have told him how into it she was. Predictably a knock at the door had her running to the entrance and flinging the door wide. The delivery guy just held his hands out, watching her with some amusement as she hugged the enormous bunch of flowers and snatched the box from his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you!” Jamie couldn't stop the wide grin painting her face, her world once more to rights. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're welcome.” But he was speaking to the door panels. Whoever was wooing this woman, he was doing it all ways right, in her book. Chuckling to himself, he walked away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inside the apartment, Jamie was reading the note, taking in the more dramatic coloring of the flowers, all deep crimson roses, and dark foliage. It suggested all manner of wicked thoughts, some of them confirmed when she opened the deep box and discovered the contents. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken her some time to get everything on, some of it done with the blindfold in place. When he entered the room, she heard his small gasp of appreciation for all her efforts. Her red, lipstick painted lips parted in a smile as she listened to him undress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it please you?” she asked, keeping her tone as sultry as possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very much so. You look perfect.” His low growl sent shivers of anticipation skittering down her back, her thighs already damp from excitement. She licked her lips, secure that the expensive lipstick wouldn't rub off in a hurry. She had barely finished that small move when he climbed onto the bed, kneeling in front of her, his body heat radiating off him, his cologne enveloping her. She had been kneeling on the bed, resting back on her heels, but his finger caught the loop at the front of the collar, pulling her up to rest on her knees alone. His mouth found hers in a kiss that made her tingle from her crown to her toes, her mouth invaded and plundered, his fingers buried in her hair where it was secured in an updo above the leather collar. His free hand was stoking over her face below the blindfold, a slight tremor in his touch telling her he was as excited to see her as she was to have him with her. Her arms were secured behind her back in cuffs, the position pushed her chest out, the hard points of her breasts meeting the soft fur on his chest, small movements making them rub from side to side, engorging the nipples even further. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was kissing her like a man long starved, his tongue tangling with her, his breathing hectic. Of all the ways he'd seen her dressed, this was straight out of his wildest dreams. The soft black leather encircled her neck, her waist cinched in with a leather corset, her breasts pushed up from underneath, exposed to the air for him to feast on. She had followed his instructions to the letter, the rosy tips and surrounding aureola rouged with the same lipstick on her ruby lipped mouth. The scrap of fabric between her legs was a tiny, crotchless g-string, in black as was the rest of the ensemble, the straps highlighting her hips around to her bottom. She looked glorious, not remotely slavish to his eyes, just proud and confident enough to trust him and wear it all. For him, and only for him. The fragile, black silk suspender belt held up a pair of sheer black stockings, the final touch to the overall picture, Jamie presenting herself for his, and their, mutual pleasure. He was so going to enjoy the next few hours. He had missed her, frustrated that he had to take any time away from her at all, let alone for business. When had she infected his blood? When had she become so necessary for his existence? How on earth was he to give her up when the month ended? He had seriously miscalculated her appeal and now, as he wrung another moan from her succulent lips, he tried to forget how few days were left to enjoy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a frenzy of want, he ignored his own nagging questions and turned his attention fully on the sexual delight returning his kisses in front of him. Tomorrow was another day, for now he'd do his best to make her scream in pleasure before the night was done. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Three nights he called her to him, three nights of exotic love-play, the black leather outfit more than paying for itself, his level of arousal heightened as she allowed him to do what he liked with her. Each morning Jamie awoke, tired but elated, her need to touch him, feel him, see him almost crippling her to think about anything else but him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A monotonous ringing she recognized as her phone woke Jamie the following morning. She shifted wearily in the hotel bed as she forced her eyes open, noticing that she was alone as usual. She reached across the now empty side of the bed towards the table where she had left her phone the night before and found herself squinting against the brightness as she turned the screen towards her. The room was still pitch black, even at mid-morning. He always made sure to leave the curtains closed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie pouted when she saw the name lit up across the top. She debated not answering the call and burrowed her head back into the pillow as she waited for it to finish ringing. She let her eyes flutter closed and breathed a soft sigh of relief. She was just settling back into the comfortable silence when the screen lit up again, and the same irritating noise began to echo through the room. She huffed as she slid her finger across it to answer the call, lifting it to her ear with a frustrated groan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good morning, Chloe," she muttered. Reaching up, she brushed some hair out of her eyes as she sat up, tucking the strays behind her ear, realizing there was no chance of her falling asleep again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did I wake you?" Her friend's voice seemed louder than usual to her still tired ears, and the underlying French accent rose with the concern in her voice. "You told me to call you this morning."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I know. Thanks, by the way, I didn't mean to sleep so long."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He kept you up all night?" she commented incredulously. Jamie could practically see Chloe's eyes rolling, a gesture she was sure to be making behind the phone. "What a surprise."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't sound so jealous," Jamie chuckled. There was a sigh of indignation from the other end of the line. She yawned as she waited for a real response, tossing the covers off of her. She spent the minute of silence looking around for the clothes she knew would be scattered across the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe was talking again, her accent more pronounced."Oh yeah, completely jealous. You can tell me all about it if you make it to lunch on time."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lunch. Right, it's Friday." Jamie paused for a moment and stood up, looking over at the clock that hung on the wall. "I'll be there in an hour and that's not late."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, Jamie. See you then."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie heard the click of the line going dead, then tossed her phone aside as she moved to get dressed. She quickly pulled her clothes on, dancing around the room on a hunt for her purse as she dragged her pants up her legs. She stopped short in front of the mirror in the corner as she was putting her blouse on. There was a small bruise in the shape of a hand forming just above the edge of her waist. Jamie inhaled sharply as drew her fingers across it, suddenly hoping she wouldn't find any other bruises littered along her body. She took a full minute to check her neck and face before she finished dressing, then dug out her hairbrush from the depths of her purse to tame the fiery red mess. The session with her nighttime lover had been enthusiastic, the cuffs securing her to the slats making up the bed head, her body ravaged and plundered, the end result mutually satisfying for both parties. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She found the usual note as she was putting her shoes on, a piece of paper folded above a sizable pile of cash. There was a quickly scribbled thank you on one side. Beneath that was the date and time of their next meeting, and her heart sank the slightest bit when she realized it was more than a couple of days away. Her time as his mistress was coming to an end, the nights of sexual debauchery soon to be consigned to history. She hissed in annoyance at herself as she collected the money, putting it into the envelope she kept in her purse for this express purpose. The note she tore to pieces, depositing it in the trash can near the bathroom. She made one last sweep of the room as she gathered the rest of her things, then slipped out the door and tucked the key card into her pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie kept her head down as she hurried through the lobby, only looking up again when she was out on the street and settled into the cab. She gave the driver directions for the restaurant Chloe had picked out and was smugly satisfied to find that she had beaten her there. She stood outside the entrance until she saw Chloe making her way through the crowd towards her, noticing the bright blonde of her hair as she maneuvered across the street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You made it," Chloe teased sarcastically, holding her arms out for a hug as she reached Jamie. She smiled as they held a short embrace before Chloe was pulling away with another derisive smirk. "It's nice to see that you can still walk."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh shut up," Jamie replied. She reached out for a playful shove of the other girl's shoulder before turning to open the door. She followed Chloe inside as she shook her head and laughed, neither of them speaking again until they had been seated and were ordering drinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Although three times in one week is a little surprising. How much longer does this go one for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess he was needy, and next week sees the end of it, as you well know," she murmured. Jamie shrugged dismissively as she glanced over the menu, trying to ignore the lingering stare her friend had leveled at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You certainly were."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie ignored her, making her choice. “I was what?” she asked, not looking at her friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Needy.” Her friend clarified. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A blush crept over Jamie's cheeks at the comment. She lifted up the menu in her hands so she could hide behind it. Chloe gave a snort of laughter, though her enjoyment was short-lived and was lacking her earlier warmth. Jamie looked over at her as her face changed, noticing the new grimace that was quickly replacing her teasing smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not healthy, Jamie," she said softly, real concern rising in her tone. "You don't even know his name, who he is, what he does."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's extravagantly wealthy and likes sex. What more do I need to know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're becoming addicted. What about when he's done with you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I move on? With enough money to finish and publish my book."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just be careful, if only for me?" Chloe reached across the table to lay a hand on top of Jamie's. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I always am." Jamie retorted, biting her lip. She tried to push the negative thoughts out of her mind and decided a distraction was needed. "So how are things going with Jackson?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They're really good," Chloe hummed, grateful for the change of conversation. "Abe told me he bought a ring."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie gaped at her. "No way, he actually told you that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe made to fluff her hair as if she received proposals every day."Yes, I couldn't believe it. He said he didn't know anything else but remembered how I hate surprises."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So Jackson's going to propose," Jamie mused. "That's so exciting. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Frenchwoman let out a bark of laughter. "You wouldn't let me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie nodded in agreement, the pair of them sharing a conspiratory laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not in a million years."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They fell into a conversation about the possible proposal until Jamie's phone buzzed in her pocket. She sighed as she read over the message, sparking Chloe's interest and having her straightening in her seat. "Anything wrong?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie frowned down at the screen. "Ryan set up an interview for me tomorrow."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So? That's what you do, isn't it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, but with..." Jamie huffed and set her phone down, drawing Chloe's gaze. "A Doctor Mitchell Morgan."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The Mitch Morgan? Of Auvagen, Mitch Morgan?" Chloe's blue eyes had widened and Jamie swore she was blushing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Notorious asshole who hates journalists Mitch Morgan. Lucky me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe was having none of that. "So, your point is? He's rich, and famous, and owns one of the most important companies in the world. You have to go."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't exactly have a choice." Jamie fumed. She had read a little about the man, his status as CEO and owner of Auvagen, the company that everyone wanted a piece of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Get a good interview," laughed Chloe. "You're stubborn enough. And then you'll be famous too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie let out a mocking laugh. "Famous, sure. For being the girl he decided to push out of a window."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe rested her chin on her folded hands and sent her friend a sympathetic look. "Then I will miss you very much and give you a nice funeral."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, thanks,” Jamie laughed. “That makes me feel so much better."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They continued to talk until Jamie's phone buzzed again, alerting her to another message. She was already rolling her eyes, expecting to find Ryan sending her something else about the interview. Instead, her eyes widened considerably as she read over the message three times. Chloe found herself intrigued, watching her friend as her expression changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh my god," Jamie whispered. Chloe huffed and reached over, shaking her arm to get her attention. Jamie raised her head, torn between dismay and excitement. "He wants to meet again, tonight."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Four times in one week! Mon Dieu!" Chloe laughed then sent her friend a hard look. "You're not actually going to do it are you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shrugged, a smile curving her lips. "I... don't know."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe threw up her hands in exasperation. "You don't know? What does it say exactly?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Change of plans," she recited. "Can meet tonight, at 10pm, will you come?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jamie, it's Friday." Chloe reminded her, raising an eyebrow. Jamie saw it and scowled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I know."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jamie, it is Friday... as in, date night with your boyfriend. You remember him, don't you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh... right." Jamie sighed and shook her head, typing out a short dismissal while Chloe watched. Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she quickly deleted the message as her mind changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe flapped a hand at her in encouragement. "Go. Spend the night with Logan. You need to take time away from your mystery man."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie nodded her head reluctantly. "No, you're right. I'll go see Logan."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe nodded in approval as they finished their meals. Jamie stayed put when her friend got up to pay, waiting until her back was turned before she pulled out her phone. A burst of excitement rushed through her as she began to type again. She hit send before her mind had the chance to change again, and she pushed away the selfish guilt that swallowed her heart as she read the message to herself, over and over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, see you then</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting in the lush waiting room, she rubbed her damp palms on the side seam of her skirt. After doing a little research into the man she was about to meet, she decided he deserved her respect, at the very least, hence the formal outfit. Her hair was tightly confined in a chignon, her makeup was flawless and she thought she looked very professional and cool, in keeping with the building and offices she was currently sitting in. Auvegen was housed in a glass and marble edifice surrounded by gardens with casual seating and tall trees. Some of the trees were actually made out of wire, sculptures that held lights so that at night the outside was lit up a little like an amusement park if she was unkind. The company itself had only been on the stock market a little under five years, what it produced covering a wide variety of goods and services, all slanted towards veterinary and animal management, not only locally and countrywide, but globally. If it had anything to do with animals, their feed, medical services, care, and breeding, Auvegen had its brand stamped on it. It was also the leading company researching animal diseases in relation to their impact on human populations either from a food source perspective or interspecies cross-infection of viruses. Their success in the areas of treating Ebola, Bird Flu, and other animal originating viruses was legendary. Their breakthrough in treating Foot and Mouth, plus Mad cow disease had improved sheep and cattle raising to a high bar. As a sideline to all this was their offshoot company, Ventigen, that was making important advances in crop pest control, the varroa bee mite threat, and other crop or important insect destroying pests. All the while making sure that nothing they made, no residue or medication would be released into the environment and cause any ongoing poisoning of the soil or water. All cutting edge stuff and the CEO wasn't even fifty yet. How Ryan had managed to arrange such an exclusive interview with the man at the top remained a secret, much like the man himself. That alone made him catnip to any journalist or reporter wanting a coup. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Campbell?” A lilting feminine voice called her back to the present and she stood up, smoothing down her skirt and following the smartly dressed PA down a corridor. Against the walls and between the doors, pots of plants lent an exotic touch as they proceeded towards an imposing pair of solid wood doors, that opened before them without the PA touching them. The woman waved Jamie through announcing. “Doctor Morgan will be with you shortly, please take a seat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie barely got out a quiet “Thank you” before the doors swung shut and she was standing with her back to them, staring at the room laid out before her. The office was situated on one of the corners of the building with windows on two sides, reaching up floor to ceiling. Despite that, the room was neither too cold nor too warm with the sunlight streaming in. Some coating or filter on the windows cut the glare down to easily bearable levels. Her heels tapped a rhythm as she approached the desk set to one side, glancing at a long table with many chairs placed down one wall, obviously for larger meetings held in his office. The furniture was spare, several large abstract paintings – originals not prints – hung on one wall, the other taken up with shelves holding a selection of books, almost a mini library. She tottered over to take a look, reading some of the spines and sneaking a picture or two with her phone. She also took photos of the room as she didn't think anyone would believe her if she left it to just a written description. There was a single chair in front of the imposing desk, so she went over and sat in it. The desk itself seemed to be bare of any of the usual paraphernalia one expected to be there, no mementos, no photos, not even a phone or computer terminal. The chair waiting for its owner to return looked comfortable, but she resisted the temptation to go sit in it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Minutes ticked by, Jamie crossing and recrossing her legs as she waited, her eyes wandering all over the room before settling on watching the view outside. The office was high enough up to be able to view helicopters landing and taking off from a heliport next to the bank of the East River, the water running sluggish and dark as it flowed unceasingly towards the Upper Bay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The main doors opened and the man she'd come to interview walked through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Campbell, sorry to keep you waiting.” He strode over to her, reaching out a hand to shake hers before moving around the expansive desk and sitting in the comfortable chair, his back to the windows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie's first impression was of a man supremely confident in his abilities and himself. His clothes were more casual than she expected, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his waistcoat only buttoned at two places near the bottom, and his shoes more worn for comfort than dress style. Some of her surprise must have shown on her face, his own creasing into a broad smile. He gestured to himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not what you were expecting?” His dark eyes twinkled behind the dark-rimmed glasses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shook her head. “I had no expectations one way or the other, Doctor Morgan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mitch. Call me Mitch. Can I call you Jamie?” He didn't wait for her to answer. “I'll call you Jamie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gaped at him then shut her mouth with a snap, turning to get out her voice recorder and lay it on the desk in front of her. “Do you object to me using a recorder? It allows for more accuracy, I find. Less chance of relying just on memory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waved his hand for her to continue, watching her as she pulled out a note pad currently peppered with lines of questions she wanted to ask. Before she did she stood up, her phone in her hand. “Um..do you mind if I take your picture, I'm sure the readers would love to see you, as it were, in your natural environment?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again that negligent wave, the man not bothering to pose, just sitting in his chair, one ankle resting on his other knee, elbows on the arm of the chair, hands loosely clasped together on his chest, relaxed as if he was just sitting in his own living room. Jamie had to take a breath to steady her nerves, taking several snaps to make sure she had one good image to use. Sitting back down she went to open her mouth to ask the first question, but Mitch raised a finger, forestalling her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ I'm sure a good journalist like yourself has already done all the background research and probably know more about myself that I do. Instead of all those boring questions about what I like to eat, do I have any hobbies, what's my favorite color, why don't we take a tour and I'll show you what I do instead?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again Jamie found herself taken aback. Not about to be put off, she beamed at him and nodded. “That would be wonderful, Doctor Morg...er...Mitch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled back, revealing a dimple in one cheek and even teeth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. She felt a flutter somewhere in her midsection but tamped it down as just her reaction to a personable, powerful man with his attention all focused on her. Mitch morgan may not dress flashily, but he flaunted a fine collection of jewelry, from the diamond stud winking in his ear, almost invisible under his dark hair, a gold chain about his neck, platinum Rolex on his wrist and a platinum ring on his right hand. No sign of a wedding ring, but that didn't mean much these days. Nothing she had dug up hinted as any long term relationships since a failed marriage ending sometime in the late nineties. She couldn't even find a decent paparazzi picture of him with anyone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie pulled herself out of her musings and got to her feet, her voice recorder tucked back into her skirt pocket while her note pad returned to her purse. Mitch stood beside the desk, next to her chair, waiting for her to gather her equilibrium, then held out an arm for her to walk with him towards the wooden door, his hand coming to rest at the base of her spine, barely touching but sending her pulse into a gallop. Mentally shaking herself and admonishing her wretched libido to lay off, she made no mention of the proprietary hand and walked out of his office into the world that he'd created. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tour of the huge complex took time, Mitch taking her through a labyrinth of laboratories, testing suites, past a multitude of intricate machinery, and scientific equipment that she hadn't a clue about what they did. She was shown a number of rooms housing animals in various stages of being made well again, none of them looking ill-treated or even kept in small cages, except for the smallest creatures like rats and mice. Even they were living in luxury, nothing like she expected they'd be. Mitch rumbled on about the business, about what the company was hoping to achieve, his ultimate goals, his wish for a utopian world without animal cruelty and environmentally sustainable crops, without having to resort to gene manipulation to make them bigger, or produce more. After two hours she found herself back outside his office, her feet aching and her mouth dry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sensing her discomfort he left her briefly to talk to his PA, giving her a list of instructions before returning to Jamie's side to usher her back into his office. After seating herself once more in front of his desk, and as discreetly as possible, Jamie slipped off her shoes, rubbing her heels to ease the blisters forming. If she'd known she was going to be given the grand tour she'd have worn something more sensible to tramp about in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um...I was wondering if I could have a glass of water?” she asked, the double door opening behind her as she spoke. She looked around, seeing the PA waving in a couple of men in chef's garb, pushing trollies loaded down with food and drink. They headed for the conference table, setting up a positive banquet complete with table cloth and napkins, along with carafes of both hot and cold drinks. Jamie fumbled for her shoes, wincing at the thought of putting pressure on the blisters again so soon. Not paying attention, she didn't notice when Mitch waved to his PA and the others to leave. He approached her chair silently and suddenly bent down to lift her completely off the seat, his hands under her knees and arm about her back. Jamie let out a yelp, her shoe falling to the floor as he carried her effortlessly across to the table, her arms clutching at his neck until he deposited her gently into one of the padded armchairs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doctor Morgan, you didn't have to do that...” she stammered, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Mitch ignored her and took the chair beside her, swiveling it so he faced her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's my fault you have blisters, so I thought I'd save you having to walk in those shoes again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Okay. Do you always carry your female guests about like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grinned at her, his attention briefly taken off what he was doing – filling a plate for her. “Only when they wear inappropriate footwear. I didn't drop you, so there you are!” He tilted his head to indicate the different carafes of liquids. “Would you like coffee or juice? There's water if you'd prefer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um...er...”Jamie stared at the rather large array of choices for just two people. “I wasn't expecting...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try this juice. We grow the fruits here in the onsite tropical orchard. It's fresh.” He poured a glass of clear juice, holding it out for her to take. Her parched mouth welcomed the cool drink, her tastebuds enjoying the sweet, tangy flavor. Draining the glass she placed it next to her plate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was delicious, thank you. Is this all grown onsite as well?” She pointed to her plate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch smiled, popping one of the bite-size morsels into his mouth from his own plate. “We are largely self-sufficient, we make our own food, produce our own power, purify our own water.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie tried several of the bites on her plate, her appetite reviving in the face of such choice. Each mouthful was as tasty as the last, her plate rapidly clearing along with another glass of the rejuvenating juice, all pain from her feet temporarily forgotten. While she ate her meal she contemplated the man beside her, Mitch playing the urbane host and asking her about herself, drawing her out, Jamie having to be quick-witted and come up with some deflections of her own. There was something about him she couldn't put her finger on, he seemed familiar despite him being a total stranger to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you enjoyed our humble offerings, Jamie?” His voice jerked her back to awareness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was probably the best meal I've ever had, thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should probably thank you for letting me ramble on about my favorite topic. Do you have enough for your article?” He raised a dark eyebrow, his eyes glinting behind his glasses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have more than enough for several articles. You've been most helpful and informative. You'll be notified when the article is to be published so you can get a copy for yourself.” She made to get up. “I'll even autograph a copy for you if you like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch laughed, also getting to his feet. “I'll keep you to that promise.” He made no move to pick her up again, somewhat to Jamie's disappointment, so she padded back to the desk to gather up her belonging, the interview at an end. She hooked the shoes with a finger to carry them, not abashed to walk away in only her stockinged feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's been a great pleasure to meet you...Mitch. Thank you for making the time for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once more she found her hand clasped in his and shaken, Jamie reluctant to let go, feeling something was missing when he released her. Like before he guided her back to the double doors, his hand hovering over her lower back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I look forward to reading what you have to say about me and Auvegen, Jamie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She paused in the doorway and looked up at him. “You don't have to worry, I think I'd be hard-pressed to find anything other than positives to write about. Goodbye.” For a long moment they simply gazed at each other, something, some intuition nagging at her to recognize it, but it was gone with a small shake of her head and a blink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The over-large doors closed silently behind her as she tried not to limp too obviously past the reception desk to the lift and the short trip to the ground floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there anything you need before I leave, Doctor Morgan?” His PA asked, her voice carrying to where he sat, contemplating the view outside his window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing more for tonight. Thank you. See you in the morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's Saturday tomorrow, sir. I'll see you on Monday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, I forgot. Have a good weekend.” He waved a hand and the girl was quickly gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Jamie Campbell had left he canceled all his afternoon appointments and spent his time going over what had taken place in the short time she'd been there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He'd deliberately left her alone in his office at the start, wanting her to relax a little and take in everything about the place he worked at. He was proud of his company, proud of his achievements in the last decade. It was really only in the last few years that his hard work had paid off, the purpose-built building his greatest investment, not only for himself but primarily for the future. When he'd first entered his office and she'd turn to watch him approach, his stomach had been in knots that all the effort he'd gone to, to make himself anonymous, had been for nothing and she'd recognize him straight away. She hadn't. She'd scrutinized him with her beautiful eyes, from his face to his sensible shoes, noting his choice of clothes weighed against the pricey jewelry he chose to ornament himself with. Nothing about him seemed to ring any bells or cause her to question if they'd met before, or if she knew him from somewhere. He'd laid on the charm, making sure to keep his voice lighter than the one he used during their sexual encounters, and again she never made the connection. The tour had been a spur of the moment inspiration, a way for her to get enough information to satisfy her journalistic requirement, but not enough time for her to dwell on his person with all the visual and audio information to take on board. He realized it had gone on long enough when he saw her wince, shifting her feet to try and relieve the blisters formed by the shoes never intended to be worn for tramping about the building for two hours. His suspicions were confirmed when she limped to the chair and quickly shucked the shoes off her feet, his picking her up was another impulse that he realized could have completely given the game away, but she'd been so surprised she'd not recovered, being faced with the banquet he'd placed before her. In the end, she left none the wiser that her mystery lover was the man in front of her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now he had a real conundrum to figure out. There was only a week left of the original contract, a few short days before, supposedly, they would part, Jamie still none the wiser as to who he was. Having seen her – up close and personal, so to speak – there was no way on God's green Earth that he was prepared to let her go. It had all been a gamble – whether she'd take up his challenge, whether she'd want to carry on after the first night, whether she really was as sweet and exciting as he hoped. He wasn't ashamed to admit he was completely addicted to her body, her responses so generous and willing, adventurous, and engaging. It had been an instant attraction, seeing her among the other reporters at the symposium, her bright hair catching his eye, his investigation into her circumstances intriguing, her various published articles confirming her talent and writing skills.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he had her name, he looked up everything he could find about her, little as it was. Mainly he found online copies of her newspaper articles, her voice singing clear, her ability to sniff out and report on the real issues beneath the fluff she'd originally been sent to find out about. They all indicated an intelligence and incitefulness that belied her slight figure and elfin looks. In no way was Jamie Campbell a lightweight, in fact, quite the opposite. Some of that came through in their sexual encounters, her sharp mind proving inventive and playful. Jamie might present herself as submissive, but given the opportunity, she wasn't afraid to assert herself, in the bedroom and beyond. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His musings on Jamie were interrupted by a faint trilling noise coming from his desk. Swinging back to face the room, he looked down at the surface and pressed a concealed button, activating a thin monitor to rise up and flick on, a face appearing that he easily recognized. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Audra. It's been a while. How can I help you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman stared at him out of the screen, her faced screwed up in a frown. “Why don't you use a phone like every other male in this country?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch laughed. “I'm in my office, Audra, this is what I use when I'm working.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His ex-wife flicked a quick glance to the side before turning back to face him. “Henry was hit by a car.” She informed him bluntly. Mitch leaned forward, tense and alert in the face of the news. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is he alive?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is...just. He's at the vet's right now. Clem is pretty upset about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bet she is. What can I do to help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His ex looked away from the screen for a moment, lifting a hand to dash away the threat of tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They're doing all they can and, thanks to you, we have more than enough to cover the costs, it's just ...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me the number of the vet, I'll give them a call, see if they need anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Audra sniffed while searching for something in her pockets before holding up a business card with the vet surgery's details. Mitch took a snapshot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I've got it, Audra. Leave it with me, I'll give them a call right now. Tell Clem I'll call back shortly and give her an update.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His ex-wife simply nodded, too emotional to speak. Her hand reaching out to switch off the screen, ending the call. Pressing a hidden button sent the monitor back to its hiding place, his attention now on pressing the buttons of his desktop phone to call the Boston based vets. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie knelt in the center of the bed dressed in the latest outfit sent by her mystery man. No more black leather, this one was almost honeymoon-ish with its frothy ivory lace around the edges and cuffs of the full-length peignoir, the same lace making up the substance of the teddy underneath, overlaid with another frothy creation that could only be called a baby-doll nightdress, the garment only reaching to the tops of her thighs and as insubstantial as gossamer. No stockings this time, but another beautiful piece of jewelry instead, the fragile-looking silver chain holding a beautiful, creamy opal that nestled perfectly on her collarbones. The tiny scrap of panties that completed the outfit were, like the nightdress, so gossamer fine they hid exactly nothing from whoever looked down there, but she didn't mind, spending several minutes just pirouetting to let the fabrics swirl around her before she assumed the position. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She'd been a little early, so spent the time thinking about the interview with Doctor...no, Mitch Morgan only that morning. Having researched her subject, she was already impressed with what he'd created, impressed with the whole company, and its overall objectives, so meeting the man who started it all was the cherry on the top. She had been awed by the building and particularly by his office, but it was the man himself that intrigued her. He presented himself as approachable and humble, not what you expected from the head of a global company. He was engaging, putting himself out to charm her and put her at her ease, not at all like a man who hated the press, who she'd heard could barely bring himself to bother with press releases, leaving that all up to his communications department to field all requests for interviews. She had expected a starched up corporate bully, as ready to have her manhandled out by security or literally toss her out of the window secure in the knowledge that money would make it all go away. That wasn't the man she met, that wasn't Mitch Morgan. Admittedly, he was a private person, not giving her anything of a personal nature to work with, his tour and subsequent interview hardly ever touched on anything that didn't refer to what they were doing, or where he saw the company becoming in the future. She certainly didn't learn if he had a girlfriend or something else in the background. She only had her own impressions to judge what he was like as a man. Or maybe she should pay attention to what her body and senses thought of him. Certainly, her heart seemed to think he had a lot going for him, and not just because he was loaded or his current position in life. Physically he was an attractive package, tall, reasonably athletic without being buff, good head of hair nicely styled without being stupidly stuffed with product, he smelled nice – some soft, musky cologne that wasn't overpowering, the gentlest touch when he was guiding her about or touching her arm to point something out. In fact, he'd touched her several times, again somewhat unusual when conducting an interview with someone, even the friendlier ones. All in all, Mitch Morgan was an enigma, one she wouldn't have minded exploring further but she was well aware that he was way above her touch in so many ways she didn't even bother to try counting them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jamie?” her lover's voice spoke to her, pulling her back from her introspection. She hadn't heard the snick of the door, or his footstep, suddenly glad the blindfold was already in place from force of habit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sorry, I was miles away,” she explained, smiling in the general direction of his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously,” he retorted, an edge to his tone. She heard the rustle of clothing being removed, her body already tingling in anticipation of what was to come. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had someone to interview today and I was just thinking over what I was going to write about him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Him?” her lover queried, the thump of a shoe hitting the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got to meet the owner of Auvegen, have you heard of them?” she asked, her head turning to follow the sound of his padding around the bed. The click of something being put down on the side table indicated he was taking off his watch and glasses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean Doctor Morgan.” His voice was close now, her internal muscles tensing in excitement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That's the one. I got to have a one-on-one interview with him. I think it went rather well.” She could feel the heat coming off his body, hear his shallow breathing near to her ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think this Doctor Morgan made quite an impression on you, Jamie girl. You're blushing...” She suddenly felt his hand on her thigh, pushing its way to between her legs. “ ...are you wet for him, or for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gasped, his fingers parting her flesh and burrowing inside, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulder. His mouth suddenly covered hers before she could speak, his tongue tangling with hers, filling her mouth while his fingers fucked her roughly. Suddenly his mouth was torn away along with his fingers, his body moved beyond her reach so she fell forward onto the bed covers on all fours. Panting, she felt him get behind her, throwing up the long, sheer dressing gown to uncover her buttocks, his fingers hooking the insubstantial panties aside before plunging his cock into her body. She was so ready for him, her body welcoming his heat and hardness with no discomfort, her hands pushing her back to seat herself more fully upon him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think he must have got you all hot and horny, Jamie girl. Did he?” His voice rasped over her, his hips driving him deep into her willing body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only...you...get me...this wet!!” she replied between thrusts, lowering her head towards the covers to further push her bottom back against him. Her hair covered her face, his hands now on her hips, gripping her flesh as he plowed forcibly into and out of her body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch stared down at the curve of her back, her hair, the tender nape of her neck, her enthusiastic participation. Her skin was warm and soft, enhanced by the gossamer clothing that concealed nothing but still left a thin veil through which he could discern every part of her body. The tiny scrap of silk he had pushed aside to enter her body was almost transparent with her own emissions, no hindrance to access for whatever he wanted. Sweat dripped into his eyes and he felt his climax coming on, Jamie moaning her pleasure while he clenched his buttocks to add force to each thrust. Suddenly he was there, buried as deep as he could go, his balls tightening as he expelled himself into her, his grunts of satisfaction stealing what breath he had left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With his heart pounding, he roughly pulled out and flopped over onto his back on the bed, Jamie remaining on all fours, panting heavily. With that vigorous bout of lovemaking over, Jamie made to sit up, not realizing that the blindfold had come loose, the material falling down to her neck when she rose up to sit back on her heels. She pushed back her hair and blinked, surprised to find the main room light still on and her vision free of the fabric usually hiding everything from her. She could hear her lover still panting behind her, her thighs coated with what they'd just done, her hand shaking as she realized that she could, because of a loosely knotted blindfold, finally see the man who had brought her so much pleasure in the past weeks. She cautiously turned her head to look through her disordered hair at the man laying down behind her. His face was turned away from her but she could see his profile, the dark head hair, the lightly tanned skin, his mouth open to draw in much-needed air, his chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes skittering down his body, noting the dark body hair barely concealing the deep scaring that marked his flesh. She slowly moved so that she was sitting once more on her heels, kneeling upright, her hand holding the blindfold after pulling it from around her neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mitch?” her faint, quavering voice made him turn his head, thickly lashed dark brown clashing with grey-green, her's wide with disbelief and shock, his closing slowly as if in surrender, his arm coming up to cover his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, now you know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>X x x x</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie stared at the man who'd she'd interviewed only a few hours before. She tried to analyze how she felt finding out her lover's identity, but it only left her numb and confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But why?” she asked, her head tilted, brows frowning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted his arm and rose up to rest on his elbows, not making any move to cover himself or shift from the bed. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She swallowed. “Why all this?” she swept her arm in an arc to encompass the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of answering her, he made to sit up and reached for his glasses, putting them on before twisting to face her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave a shrug. “I saw you and thought this was a good idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie felt her mouth fall open and didn't bother to stop it. “But you could have anyone, and I mean...anyone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted you,” he replied, meeting her confused gaze with a crooked smile that hinted at the dimple in his cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie sent him a quizzical look, not sure whether to cry or scream at the ridiculous situation she found herself in. “Do you always get what you want?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted one shoulder. “What do you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie was incensed, but not at all sure why. One minute she was having hot and heavy sex, the next minute she's in bed with a man who could probably afford the priciest and most talented whore in the world without feeling the loss, but for some reason, he'd chosen her. She shook her head, her forehead furrowing. “You're not helping here, Mitch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let out a huff of air before he tried to explain. “Jamie, you know – as a journalist – that anyone in any sort of position of power has little chance of privacy if their company is even remotely successful. Auvegen is one of the most successful in recent times. Everywhere I go, every time I step out of a car, or anywhere, there is the flash of cameras, a reporter poking a voice recorder or microphone in my face, wanting to ask me questions, query anyone I'm with, get my life story in a sound byte.” He paused. Jamie nodded slightly, understanding what he was saying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch continued. “In your research before the interview, did you find paparazzi pictures of me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only bad ones, and never with anyone special, like a celebrity or something,” she replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you never will. I'm not interested in putting anyone through a media circus like that, especially anyone I had genuine feelings for.” His eyes had not left her face, trying as best he could to convey the truth and judge her reaction to what he was saying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie was gazing back at him, her brows knitted once more. “Are you saying you have feelings for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned in closer. “I'm saying that nothing I've done was intended to hurt you. At the start I thought, if you answered my text, then I'd see how far this went. See if my attraction to you was just a one night wonder or if there was something more. I wanted to find out if I could...if we could enjoy each other without all the baggage of who I am, the age difference between us, or any hang-up about...these.” He indicated the severe scarring covering his torso. Jamie flicked a glance at them, but as she was already very familiar with the feel of them they only provoked curiosity, nothing more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted so badly to believe him. “They aren't so bad, and anyway, I'm no teenager for you to worry about an age difference if there even is one!” Her initial shock was leaching away, her curiosity winning over everything else. She shifted to better face him, her expression now intent, not fearful or confused. “Why did you let this go on for so long?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked down at the cover, before looking up again with a sheepish expression. “I was enjoying all this way more than I expected too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we only have a few more days before it all ends,” she stated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence stretched between them, Mitch reaching up with his hands to dry wash his face after taking his glasses off. That done he put them back on and sat up straighter. “I don't want this to end.” There it was, he'd confessed, now the ball was in her court. Wherever they went with this relationship this was the moment it all hung on. He watched her expressive face, wondering what was going through her busy brain, her eyes and expression giving nothing away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time it was Mitch who's jaw dropped until he quickly snapped it shut with a click of his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie shrugged. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That's it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jamie folded her arms across her chest. “I have some conditions of my own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch felt a twinge of dismay but didn't show it. “Which are?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She held up her hand to count them down. “One. No more blindfolds, unless it's part of the sex play.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch nodded, not saying a word. Jamie carried on. “Two. We keep on doing this...you let me know when you're free, I meet you here and we carry as before – agreed?” She waited for him to nod, before moving on. “Three. No more money. You've been more than generous and added to what I'm making with my writing and the articles Ryan sends my way, I want to try and make it on my own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch went to open his mouth, but shut it again, nodding in reply. He'd find a way around that clause. Jamie continued. “Four. If you must keep giving me flowers, lingerie, and jewelry, then I'm not about to stop you. I'm independent, not an idiot. As you seem to enjoy all this...” She looked down at herself. “...and I do too, I don't see anything wrong with how you spend your money.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch was grinning at her now, an answering twitch curling Jamie's lips for a second. “And five. We review the arrangement every month to make sure we want to keep on meeting like this.” She paused, obviously trawling her thoughts for anything she'd missed. “Oh, and we agree, for the time being, while we are in this...whatever it is, that we don't see anyone else. You don't want publicity about your private life, neither do I.” She lowered her hand. “I think that's all for now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch couldn't wipe the grin off his face, his heart beating a rapid tattoo, his relief palpable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I agree to it all. Can we get back to the sex now?” he didn't wait for her to nod, knowing the answer from the look on her face. Placing his glasses back on the bedside table, he advanced on her, on his knees, stalking across the bed covers. Jamie bit her lip, eyes sparkling when she noticed his cock was ready and willing to give her all the pleasure she could take. He advanced, but she didn't retreat meeting him with soft arms that twined eagerly around his neck, lips happily engaging with his own, their bodies flush, his hands molding her back to bring her closer, his eager erection trapped in the warmth between them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><br/>Chloe entered the new apartment and let out a low whistle. “Wow. You actually have a separate bedroom this time? Just how much money did your mystery tycoon pay for your company?” She softened her words by giving her friend a long hug. Jamie stood back when they eventually parted and flung her arms wide. <br/>“I had a lucky break finding this. The rent isn't impossible and I have all the space I could need, plus it's in a great neighborhood.” Jamie led her friend around the smallish spaces, peering into the bedroom, large enough to house a double bed, then the attached ensuite, and finally the tidy kitchen with room for a table and chairs. Compared to Chloe's it was still small, but Jamie loved the location and it was the right size for her. What she didn't tell her friend was that Mitch had played some part in her getting it. <br/>“Do you like it?” Chloe asked, keeping her opinion to herself, but seeing that Jamie was very pleased with it. <br/>“I love it. The neighbors are quiet, it's leafy and green around here and I like the landlord.” She was almost bouncing. “Fancy a coffee?” <br/>Chloe saw the small Expresso maker on the kitchen bench and smiled, one eyebrow arched. “If you can make me a decent cup of it. Yes please.”<br/>The furniture was all second hand, but clean and tidy for all that. Several plants dotted the rooms giving it a relaxed and homey feel, certainly a step up from Jamie's last apartment, if you could call it that. “I'm impressed, mon ami. I didn't know you had a green thumb. I can't keep a plant alive to save my life. What's your secret?”<br/>Jamie laughed. “Neither can I! There is this lovely lady down the hall who gave me everything you see as an apartment warming present. She comes in once a week and takes care of them for me.”<br/>“Lucky you, think she might come to my place and do the same?” <br/>“Not likely. Try some silk plants, they only need dusting.”<br/>The two girls laughed together, the machine choosing that moment to indicate their coffee was ready. Once more settled with their respective brews, Chloe asked what she'd been dying to know. <br/>“So. It's over a month now, tell me how it ended?”<br/>Jamie sipped her drink, marshaling what she would tell her friend. She decided to be blunt. “It hasn't ended.”<br/>Chloe looked suitably, if a little over dramatically shocked by that not-unexpected revelation. “You are still seeing him?” She looked around the room with new eyes. “No wonder you can afford all this, you are still his...” Jamie clapped a hand over her friend's lips to stop her talking. <br/>“No. I'm not. I haven't taken a penny of his since the end of the four weeks, as we originally agreed. I'm more like his...mistress, if you like.”<br/>Chloe gave her an arched look over her hand so she removed it. “He's still buying you flowers.”<br/>Jamie glanced over at the beautiful arrangement gracing the middle of her small dining table. “Yes. He still sends me flowers, and other things, but no money.”<br/>Chloe didn't say a word, just giving her friend an enigmatic look. Deciding to drop the subject, for now, the Frenchwoman leaned forward excitedly. “We've set the date!”<br/>“Oh, my God, when for?”<br/>“September twenty-second at the Plaza.”<br/>“Wow. Snazzy.” She grinned at her friend, genuinely happy for her. Since Jackson popped the question and Chloe accepted it had been full on in the wedding planning department, Jamie often dragged along when Jackson wasn't available to choose the color of napkins or design of plates.<br/>“Oh, la, it was the only place that had the size room I wanted. Intimate but tasteful. I have little enough friends to invite, hardly any on Jackson's side, so it was never going to be that extravagant.”<br/>“Doesn't Jackson have family?” Jamie asked, knowing only the barest facts about the husband to be. <br/>“His mother, who lives in Africa I understand. His father is dead. Abraham, who he considers family, and that's about it.”<br/>“Wow. You weren't kidding. What about someone on your side?”<br/>“Even less than Jackson. I have sent an invitation to my mother and sister, but given the circumstances...” Chloe looked downcast for a moment before giving herself a little shake. “It remains to be seen if they make the effort.”<br/>Jamie nodded, patting her friend's arm in sympathy. It was hard when your relatives, in this case Chloe's sister, ran off with your fiancee days before your own wedding. That was the case several years ago, and how she met Jackson in the first place, during a safari in Botswana that was supposed to be Chloe's honeymoon. Jackson had followed her back to France, then they had both moved to New York to take up work. Abraham had followed Jackson when he moved to New York to further their business venture, a sort of travel agency that personally escorted their customers on conservationist safaris around the African continent. Now Chloe and Jackson were about to get hitched, no sisters or others to spoil the wedding for them. <br/>Chloe was over her funk and talking again. “...so apart from you and a few friends I've made at the embassy, it's a very small party. I don't suppose you want to invite your mystery date?”<br/>Jamie laughed. “I'd have to ask everyone to wear a blindfold to hide his identity.”<br/>Chloe looked at her shrewdly. “I think you know who he is. Am I right?”<br/>Jamie kept her expression neutral. “I reserve the right to say nothing.”<br/>Her friend made a rude noise. “Pshaw! You do know who he is.” She wagged a finger in Jamie's face. “I will winkle it out of you one day.”<br/>Jamie batted the perfectly manicured finger away, the girls laughing as they mock wrestled on the couch. All too soon Chloe had to leave and they made a time to meet up for lunch sometime in the next week or so. With the door shut, Jamie leaned her back against it and let out a drawn-out sigh. Sometimes she wanted to just jump up and down on the couch and scream his name for the world to hear, to let everyone know that she was having an affair with Mitch Morgan – billionaire, entrepreneur, super successful CEO, and all-round good guy – having the best sex of her life, and in serious danger of falling in love with him.<br/>She puttered around the kitchen putting it all back to order before checking the fridge to see what she had to eat. Thinking of food inexorably drew her thoughts back to the previous night when Mitch had brought a selection of food created in his company kitchens to share with her, plus some of the delectable juice she loved so much. They'd shared a meal together sitting up to the dining table, complete with all the accessories, both of them wearing hardly a stitch, him wearing a ridiculous tie and nothing else, she not much more than the transparent negligee he enjoyed seeing her in. They were barely apart for more than a day, the nights taken up with all sorts of sex play and mutual satisfaction. Even now, just thinking about him made her heart start to pick up and her underwear to become soaked in readiness. It was embarrassing. Chloe had long ago accused her of being addicted, and it was true. Jamie Campbell was addicted to Mitch Morgan. The hotel room was their private sanctuary, their secret hideaway where fantasy ruled with no limits on what they mutually agreed to indulge in sexually. Mitch had a wickedly inventive imagination and Jamie was game for practically anything, her body his instrument, her responses the fuel for his libido.</p>
<p><br/>X x x x</p>
<p><br/>He was addicted to Jamie Campbell, that was the only reason he could give to account for his feelings. Just thinking about her brought his cock to rigid attention. He loved the way she gave herself up to whatever game they were playing, how she smiled at him, how she smelled, how she felt to touch. He loved how responsive she was, her moans and sighs, giggles, and groans. It was like they were perfectly crafted to be together, so in tune, so well matched he wondered how he'd ever lived before finding her. He thought about her all the time, the hours not passing fast enough before he could see her again, throw himself into her arms and forget everything but them being together. Leaving her before the sun came up was becoming a physical pain – he didn't want to go. His brain buzzed with countless images of her wearing any number of delightful and exciting scraps of lace and silk, none of them doing justice to her creamy skin or sun-kissed freckles. Good God, he was waxing poetic for heaven's sake. She was a drug in his veins, a high he never wanted to come down from. <br/>“Doctor Morgan?”<br/>Mitch reluctantly dragged himself out of his daydream and back to the real world. <br/>“I'm sorry, you were saying?” He mentally shook himself and refocused on the people around the table that were looking at him in some interest, Mitch feeling a flush heat up the nape of his neck in embarrassment. “I must have drifted off, my apologies.”<br/>“We were just discussing the reports of unusual animal behavior on the west coast.”<br/>Mitch leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the cool tabletop. “Two lions, wasn't it?”<br/>“It was. Initial findings have no cause of death listed. The animals were perfectly healthy with no reason to explain them turning on their keeper of five years, or why they lay in wait in the alley for the two men they killed.”<br/>Mitch frowned and sat back once more in his seat. “Animals have been known to attack people, they even make documentaries about it.”<br/>His lead researcher smiled wryly. “True. But this is not an isolated incident. As I was saying before.”<br/>Mitch acknowledged the rebuke. “Catch me up on what I missed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>X x x x<br/><br/>They lay on the bed and stared out at the cityscape beyond the windows, the curtains pulled back to provide enough light to see each other clearly. Both were naked, recovering from a particularly athletic bout of fucking, the bed a disaster area as often happened. Mitch had tried to cast off the day's troubles and concentrate entirely on the moment, but he hadn't been entirely successful. <br/>“Loopy day?”<br/>He answered her with a grunt, pushing his glasses back up his nose to better see the lights across the water. “You could say that.”<br/>“Care to share? Or is it a top-secret project you can't discuss?”<br/>“I have no secrets, top-secret or otherwise, from you.”<br/>Jamie digested that comment for a moment. Something was worrying him and she wanted to help. <br/>“You know I would never breathe a word to anyone. Think of me as your confessional.”<br/>Mitch laughed. “I am not going down that road, next you'll want me to get a nun's habit and I'm simply not touching that with a ten-foot barge pole.”<br/>“Ridiculous man, that wasn't what I meant at all.” She huffed and lay for a moment, her fingers idly playing with his. “I simply meant that nothing said here, in this room, is spoken about outside it.” <br/>He squeezed her fingers. “I know that's what you meant.” He turned his head to look at her in the unusual lights of the city. “Hopefully it's nothing to worry about. I need to confirm some things first, okay?”<br/>“Okay.” The silence stretched between them, the air redolent of sex and satisfaction. <br/>“Mitch?”<br/>“Yeah.”<br/>“You're not just trying to protect me?”<br/>Mitch had shut his eyes, soaking in the feel of her beside him but now he was fully awake again.<br/>“Why would you think that?”<br/>“Because you have this ingrained white knight complex and I don't need you to protect me.”<br/>He smiled in the darkness. “Now there's an idea, I could get you one of those pointy hats...”<br/>“Mitch!”<br/>“Sorry.” He sighed, knowing she wouldn't let it go. Jamie had an uncanny nose for trouble and it wasn't worth trying to conceal anything because she would find out, one way or another, and he preferred she heard it from him. “Look. There's been some animal attacks around the world. My team is looking into them, but there's nothing to worry about, as yet.” He paused. “It could all just be a random series of events that seem to form a pattern, but really don't.”<br/>Jamie absorbed this for several seconds then sat up, her hair falling forward as she bent over him. “I'm good at patterns, I love researching stuff, you know I do. Why don't I look into it and see if I can find what you're looking for?”<br/>Mitch groaned. “Jamie girl, I have a whole department working on it, you don't have to bother yourself...”<br/>“You're bothered by it, and by association so am I. It's obviously important to you, otherwise you wouldn't be so uptight.”<br/>He growled under his breath. “I've known terriers less relentless than you.” He levered himself up and sat Indian style among the wreckage of the bed. “If you really feel you have to do this...” Jamie nodded her head, eyes glittering despite the gloom. Mitch conceded defeat. “Okay.” He held up a finger to stop her before she launched into whatever she was going to say. <br/>“But...I insist you do your research at Auvegen. I'll organize an office for you.”<br/>Jamie canted her head to the side, perplexed. “And your reasoning is?”<br/>“Auvegen has all the latest computer equipment, software, and access. You'll love it.”<br/>“But, Mitch? Won't that...well...I mean, what about us...this?” <br/>He shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “I'll just explain I've brought you on board because of your excellent journalistic qualities and expertise in researching global topics.”<br/>Jamie blinked at him. “Wow. And they'll believe you?”<br/>“I'm the boss, they believe whatever I tell them, and anyway, I don't imagine anybody will remember when you visited before.”<br/>Jamie snorted inelegantly. “Your personal assistant will.”<br/>“What if she does? I promise not you ravish you at the office, cross my heart. I will be sorely tempted...” He grinned wickedly. “...but I promise to control myself.”<br/>“Hmmm, I will hold you to that.” She gave him a narrow look, then happened to glance downwards, her eyebrows rising. “Was it something I said?”<br/>Mitch glanced down too, his cock sitting up proud in his lap. “He loves it when you get all bossy and take charge. You're irresistible.”<br/>Jamie laughed. “Bossy, huh? Then lay back and let me take care of business. Can't leave a job half-cocked!”<br/>Mitch did as ordered, his eyes closing, his lips parting on a gasp as Jamie grasped the matter in hand and went to work with a will.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Jamie turned up at the appointed time, dressed in her corporate outfit, this time with more sensible shoes. She approached the receptionist's desk, the woman sitting there a different one from the last time.<br/>“Hello. I'm Jamie Campbell...” Before she had to say any more the woman smiled and spoke. <br/>“Of course, Miss Campbell, they are setting up your office right now. If you would care to follow me I'll show you where it is. Just before we do, here is your security badge – please wear it at all times you are on the premises. Here is your parking ticket – place it in this adhesive pouch on your windscreen. Your parking bay is on sub-basement level two, bay number sixty-five. And last but not least, your password to access the internal server here at Auvegen. One of the techs will help you get set up with everything else you'll need.” She finally paused to draw breath, her executive smile in place. “Any questions?”<br/>Jamie shook her head, gathering up the bits and pieces before following the woman now leading her down a different corridor than before and approaching a bank of lifts. “You're on the tenth floor which houses communications and security. Until your full security clearance is approved, you'll only have access to your office and to get into the building and parking garage.”<br/>“Oh. Okay.” Jamie trotted after her as they exited the lift and proceeded down a hallway lined with doors. <br/>“Here you go, Miss Campbell.” The receptionist opened an anonymous door and ushered her through but didn't accompany her, shutting the door softly behind her charge before returning the way they'd just come. <br/>Jamie stood with her back to what was presumably her office door and stared at the space she'd been allocated. She'd expected to be given a desk in the corner of probably an open bullpen in the accounts department, or something like this. Instead, she had been given a spacious office with floor to ceiling windows, sensible work stations with printers and other office paraphernalia on them, plus several other accessories to play with. A young man was at the main desk with his head under it, apparently wiring up a monitor screen. Hearing the door, his head popped out and he smiled at her. <br/>“You must be Jamie. Mitch said you'd be arriving this morning.” He got to his feet, waving for her to come forward and see what he'd been doing. He held out his hand to shake hers. “I'm Hugh.”<br/>Jamie smiled back at him. “Hi, Hugh. Is this truly my office?”<br/>Hugh glanced around the room. “Sure is. We don't really do names on the door, but your addition to the staff will be announced in the newsletter, so everyone will know where to find you.”<br/>“Newsletter?” Jamie asked faintly. Hugh laughed. “Don't worry, there's one published every week to keep everyone up to date with what the different departments are doing, staff changes, project updates, things like that.”<br/>“Okay. How many staff actually work here?”<br/>“Um...several hundred at the last count, I think. Your welcome package will answer a lot of your questions. It's preloaded on your computer and I strongly suggest you take the time to give it a read. It will make your life that much easier if you do.”<br/>“I'll do that,” Jamie replied. She moved to the desk. “Well, for starters, you'd better show me how all of this works!”<br/>Hugh grinned. “That's what I'm here for. Sit down, and make yourself comfortable and we'll begin.” True to his word he gave Jamie a comprehensive rundown on her desk and the various bits of tech it incorporated. She had access to multiple screens, even a drop-down screen from the ceiling if she wanted to get a bigger picture or use it for playback of footage. Her office also had several smaller rooms attached including a modern bathroom which included a toilet, shower, and wardrobe if she wanted to keep a change of clothes at work. It already had a hazmat suit and associated safety items hanging in it, Jamie somewhat alarmed until Hugh said she'd probably never have to wear it and it was all explained in the welcome pack. The bathroom also came with towels and hotel-like soaps and shampoos to start her off. Next to the bathroom was a small kitchenette with an espresso maker, microwave, and all the implements and crockery to fix herself a meal or just a snack. A bowl of fruit sat on the small bench, the fridge already filled with a variety of foodstuffs, as were the cupboards. <br/>Her office, per se, also had space for a long table for her to use to layout cuttings or maps or whatever she needed to facilitate putting ideas or information in order, the table also having a camera above it that could take a picture making the collated information transportable without disturbing the originals, it could also project onto the table in the form of an overlay. To finish up, Hugh walked her through signing into the Auvegen mainframe and logging on to the in-house server for internet access. <br/>“There you go, you're all set. My phone is already in your address book, so call me if you have any problems you can't figure out. Okay?”<br/>Jamie sat back in her comfortable office chair and beamed at the young man. “Thank you, Hugh. I'll have a noodle around and read that welcome pack you pointed out.”<br/>“Okay then. Nice to meet you, Jamie, I hope you enjoy working at Auvegen. Bye.”<br/>After he left, Jamie swiveled in her chair to stare at the view behind her. It was quite different from the one she'd seen from Mitch's office and she was probably miles away from where he worked, but it gave her a little thrill to know they were at least in the same building. Pulling out a drawer beside her she deposited her bag in it, having already hung her coat in the wardrobe in the bathroom. Now she had the room to herself, she decided to explore a little, looking through the contents of the kitchen cupboards and drawers, poking about in the fridge and sniffing the soap and shampoo in the bathroom.<br/>Back at her desk, she clicked on the welcome pack on one of the screens and started to learn about the people and departments that worked at Auvegen. <br/>She had just finished skimming through the data and watched a couple of videos when a screen icon indicated someone was calling her on the inhouse video conferencing platform. She accepted the call and Mitch appeared on her screen. <br/>“Hey beautiful, how are you settling in?”<br/>Jamie looked a little askance. “Mitch, are you mad? If you keep that up everyone will know we're in a...” she hesitated.<br/>“What?” He grinned at her. <br/>“A whateveritiswehave,” She retorted, unable to keep the smile off her face and remain cross with him. <br/>Mitch flicked his eyes to the left, then to the right as if checking there was no one overhearing the conversation. “You mean they might find out you're my mistress?” he whispered.<br/>Jamie scowled at him. “I won't talk to you if you won't be serious.”<br/>He leant back in his chair. “Sorry, couldn't stop myself. I promise to behave.”<br/>“You'd better. And to answer your question, I'm settling in fine. I have to admit I really wasn't expecting all this.”<br/>“Yeah, about that. If it gets too intimidating, just call me. I'm available for you at any time.”<br/>“Thank you.”<br/>“And don't let your workaholic tendencies keep you immured in the office for hours. You are your own boss, so you can take a break and wander about as much as you need to. You set the hours.”<br/>“Good to know.” She leaned forward a little. “You realize this office is almost as big as my apartment? I'm seriously thinking of moving in here, all it needs is somewhere for me to sleep.”<br/>Mitch smiled. “You'll be getting a visit from my security chief, Geoff, before too long. He'll have a new badge for you, giving you greater access to wherever you want to go. He'll probably give you the third degree, but he's a good guy.”<br/>“Should I be worried?”<br/>“Nah. Any problems or he's not happy with something, refer him to me.”<br/>“Okay. By the way, is my office bugged?”<br/>Mitch frowned. “Not exactly bugged. The door records when you use your key card to get in or lock up. That keeps track of staff and where they've been.” His brow cleared. “Oh, and there is a static camera, black and white, and no sound, to see who comes in and out during the day, so security can see what you're doing, but not hear what you're saying.”<br/>Jamie raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay. All the more reason for you to behave yourself.”<br/>Mitch smiled. “I'll keep that in mind. You free tonight?” He waggled his eyebrows making her giggle. <br/>“I'm always free for you.”<br/>“Wonderful girl. Nine o'clock?”<br/>“I look forward to it.”<br/>They stared at each other for a beat, then Mitch cleared his throat and leaned away from the screen.<br/>“Better let you get on. See you later, Jamie girl.”<br/>“See you later, Mitch.” She pressed the button to end the call and sat back in her chair. Working with Mitch was going to be a challenge for sure. Pulling her thoughts away from the date set for later on, she returned to perusing the information about the company and the people employed there.</p>
<p><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>“So. What is it like to be working with the famously elusive Mitch Morgan?” Chloe stared intently at her friend beside her on the couch. “I know you got to interview him, but you gave up little to me about what he's actually like, apart from a picture.”<br/>Jamie had been expecting this interrogation, not surprised when Chloe turned up on her doorstep a couple of days later with a bottle of wine and expectations.<br/>“I don't exactly work with him,” she fudged. “I think we're in the same building, but it's such a labyrinth, it's hard to tell.” She didn't feel entirely comfortable fibbing to her friend, but needs must...<br/>Chloe pouted. “Is he one of those reclusive, paranoid rich guys who nobody ever sees?”<br/>Jamie laughed. “No, of course not. He's just very busy doing whatever he does. It's his company, for heaven's sake. He's not likely to be bothered about a new employee.”<br/>Chloe frowned. “Well, I'd think he'd be a little interested as you did that interview with him not so long ago. By the way, when is that going to be published?”<br/>“Ask Ryan. I have no idea.”<br/>Her friend tapped a fingernail against the side of her glass. “Hmmm. Well, life is certainly being kind to you. All that drama with you losing your job and being broke, now you are legit employed and even have a mystery lover on the down-low.”<br/>Jamie looked at her askance. “On the down-low?” Her friend looked smug.<br/>Deciding that a little distraction would be useful, Jamie asked the inevitable question about the wedding plans. Sensing she was not going to get any more out of her regarding the new job, Chloe huffed and turned away. <br/>“It is all going well.” When she didn't offer anything more, Jamie pushed.<br/>“Only going well? Is there a problem?”<br/>Chloe shrugged. “Ask Jackson.” With that enigmatic reply, she took a long drink of her wine, nearly emptying the glass. <br/>“The wedding is still on?” Jamie asked, looking concerned.<br/>“Oh, la, yes it is still happening, but Jackson has got himself involved with some animal crisis, along with Abraham and I'm worried, that is all.”<br/>“Animal crisis? What does that mean?” Given that it was precisely the reason she was working at Auvegen, Jamie was keen to hear anything to add to her collected knowledge. <br/>“I've heard a few whispers at the embassy, nothing concrete, you understand, nothing really newsworthy...”<br/>Jamie nodded, understanding what her friend was trying to convey. Chloe continued.<br/>“There have been some strange incidents across France and Europe. Animals behaving badly, I suppose you could say. In some cases, there have been injuries and one or two deaths.”<br/>“Wow. That seems serious.”<br/>Chloe nodded. “Jackson and Abraham have flown to Botswana to try and bring Jackson's mother back here, not only for the wedding but because there have been several worrying reports about lions and jaguars attacking people.”<br/>“When do you expect them back?”<br/>“They won't tell me.”<br/>Jamie gaped at her. “Who won't tell you? Jackson?”<br/>Chloe shook her head. “No. I haven't had a word from Jackson since they landed, and when I tried to find out any more, I was...what's the word, oh, stonewalled.”<br/>“By whom?”<br/>“Everyone. The people at the American embassy, even the airline who wouldn't even confirm they'd got off the plane!”<br/>Jamie patted her friend on the arm, Chloe looking so disheartened. “What about African internal affairs? Surely they keep track of visitors to the country?”<br/>“Mon Dieu! You would think so, right?” She shook her head vehemently. “I don't have the right clearance to find out what has happened to my own fiancee!” It was clear that Chloe was very upset, the usually composed and calm Frenchwoman letting a tear slip down her cheek, marring her perfect makeup. Jamie silently handed her a tissue that was taken with a whispered. “Merci.”<br/>Jamie waited for her to calm a little before speaking. “Maybe I can find out something.”<br/>Chloe gave her a sharp look. “Really?”<br/>Jamie nodded. “I have some interesting channels of information which I might be able to use to find out where Jackson and Abe are, or at least what is happening in Botswana right now that could be causing some issues. Do you want me to try?”<br/>“Oui...please. I'm so worried...” Chloe leaned forward and the two women hugged for several minutes before separating. <br/>“I'll let you know the moment I find out anything, I promise.”</p>
<p><br/>X x x x</p>
<p><br/>Jamie was sitting in her office. She'd just had the requisite visit from the security chief of Auvegen. Mitch had said she'd know him because he liked to wear 'very nice suits', which turned out to be quite accurate. Most of the staff she usually saw wore corporate casual or science geek lab coats, but Geoff Black did a nice line in tailored three-piece suits with accompanying silk shirts and ties. Given he was not a small man, worked out a great deal, and had muscle on muscles, he paid for dressing. Jamie likened him to an Italianate James Bond with his coloring and Saville Row clothes. All of which intimidated the bejeezus out of her when they first met. <br/>“Miss Campbell?” He held out his hand for her to take, Jamie instantly feeling under-dressed. She had been leaning over her work table, sorting out a timeline of several notable events. She usually didn't worry about her less than towering stature, but Geoff seemed to loom over her and she backed up against the table.<br/>“I am. You are?”<br/>“Head of Security. If you care to sit down, I have a few points I'd like to go over with you.”<br/>She swallowed, tucking a rogue strand of hair behind her ear before scuttling - her description - back to her desk. Geoff carried no obvious accessories about him, like a notepad or recording device, so she wondered how he was going to be able to verify anything she told him. Once more seated, she tried to look aloof and confident, keeping her hands below the level of her desk to hide their tremors. <br/>“What would you like to know?” She decided offense was the best defense.<br/>Geoff pinned a mild smile to his lips and started. “How long have you known Doctor Morgan?”<br/>Cursing her fair skin when her cheeks heated in a blush, Jamie lifted her chin. “I came here to do an interview for a business magazine a short time ago, but I'm sure you know that.” Geoff nodded, so she continued. “Based on that, Doctor Morgan offered me an opportunity to work for Auvegen as a researcher.”<br/>“You are a journalist, newspaper reporter...” Geoff stated, not expecting an answer. “It is unusual to hire somebody on one meeting's acquaintance, don't you think?”<br/>Feeling her stomach flip-flop she did her best. “You'd have to ask Doctor Morgan why he decided to contact me and offer the job.”<br/>“Hmmm. You broke up with your last boyfriend, Logan Hale, I believe? Can you tell me why?”<br/>Jamie felt the tips of her ears were burning now. “I hardly think that's any of your business.”<br/>“Indulge me, Miss Campbell.”<br/>“Logan was training at the police academy. There was little time for us to get together and I felt it was not going anywhere, so we ended it.”<br/>“Hmmm. And who are you seeing now?”<br/>“Nobody.” <br/>“Come now, Miss Campbell, you understand that we have to investigate anyone who works in such an important place. There is too much riding on some of the things we do here, to not know every intimate detail of the employees that work for us.”<br/>Jamie stared at him. “You'll have to ask Mitch...Doctor Morgan, if you want any further information about my private life. Private means private.”<br/>“I see. Thank you for your time, Miss Campbell. You have been most helpful.” He got to his feet and turned to leave. When he opened the door he looked back for a moment. “I imagine you know nothing about a room at the Four Season's either?” He waited for Jamie to shake her head. “Thought so. Goodbye.”<br/>Jamie had risen to her feet when he did. Now she flopped back into her chair and put her head down on the desk. Damn, but that man was scary. Mitch had picked himself one hell of a security chief.</p>
<p><br/>X x x x<br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
Mitch looked up when the door started to open. “Hey, Geoff, what's up in your world?”<br/>
“Miss Campbell.”<br/>
Mitch put down what he'd been reading. “Ah.”<br/>
“Don't worry, she gave nothing away.”<br/>
“Which only made you dig deeper...”<br/>
“You knew I would. We have too many sensitive projects running to have a loose journalist on site with access to everything.”<br/>
Mitch sighed. He waited for Geoff to take the seat in front of his desk. “I knew you'd be trouble. What do you need to know?”<br/>
“The Four Seasons?”<br/>
“It's where we meet, usually several times a week. You understand this is not public information. We like our privacy. You are the only person to know about this.”<br/>
Geoff nodded, making a gesture as if he was zipping up his own lips. “Nobody will hear it from me. I just needed to clarify before I up her security clearance.”<br/>
“Then we are clear on that.”<br/>
“And if the affair goes tits up?”<br/>
Mitch leaned back in his chair. “It won't.” He saw his security chief's eyebrow climb towards his hairline.<br/>
“She's that important to you?”<br/>
Mitch let slip a lazy smile. “She's that important. At this moment in time, she is the most important thing in my life. I trust her completely.”<br/>
Geoff saw the smile and the look in his boss's eye, confirming what he'd already figured out for himself. Mitch Morgan had finally been caught, and if he was any judge of character, Jamie Campbell was equally ensnared. He'd have to take a bet against himself as to how long before it became public gossip around the building. Clearing his throat, he sat up and straightened his waistcoat. “I'll see about the new security level clearance for her right away.”<br/>
Mitch smiled. “Thanks, Geoff.” He shook the man's hand, the pair of them exchanging a look before Geoff turned to leave the office, not once looking back.<br/>
Mitch leant forward on his desk, itching to call Jamie and let her know everything was taken care of, his finger hovering over the surface in anticipation. After a drawn-out moment, he decided to leave it until they met that evening. She was sure to bring it up and he could soothe and unruffle her feathers before making torrid, sheet rending love to her. Yeah, he had it pretty bad.</p>
<p><br/>
X x x x</p>
<p><br/>
Jamie looked up at the map projected onto the screen suspended from the ceiling. From that, she glanced back down at the table with its network or events with the overlay showing how they all linked together. She chewed at the edge of her thumb, contemplating the pattern that was starting to appear. A flicker of something caught her peripheral vision and she pulled her thumb away from her mouth. The bracelet was beautiful, she had to admit. Mitch had only presented it to her earlier in the week, an apology for his security chief. Of course, she'd forgiven him for having the equivalent of a Rottweiller for his head of security, and Mitch's attempts to divert her from worrying about Geoff knowing all about them were bone-meltingly sweet.<br/>
The bracelet had been waiting for her on her desk the next morning, the gold bangle flashing in the morning sunlight when she held it up to admire it.<br/>
Now, all of that was pushed to the back of her mind. If all the facts and information were true, then something much bigger than a few animals playing up was building on every continent, the pace of events accelerating with each day that passed. She went to her desk and called up Mitch's office.<br/>
The screen popped up with his face and he looked up, smiling when she appeared on the monitor.<br/>
“Hey. What's up?”<br/>
“You need to come to my office and see something. I think I've found that pattern you were looking for.”<br/>
His face now mirrored her serious expression and he nodded. “I'll be right there.”<br/>
Ten minutes later the door was flung open and a gaggle of people entered, Mitch at the head.<br/>
“These people need to know what you know, Jamie. Tell us what you've found.”<br/>
Jamie waited for everyone to gather near to her table, then started to point out the pattern emerging from the different events, starting with those Mitch had told her about weeks ago. Then she drew them over to look at the big screen showing the maps and the spread of the events and correlating deaths. Nobody said a word until Jamie stopped talking, then the room erupted with one after the other asking questions, wanting to verify the information and check the facts. Mitch shut them down and called for one at a time, Jamie answering all their questions to the best of her ability. When there were no more questions, Mitch ordered a heads of departments meeting in his office, Jamie to be included along with her collection of information.<br/>
When the group were gone, Mitch turned to Jamie, stepping forward to wrap her in a tight hug.<br/>
“You were brilliant!”<br/>
Jamie hugged him back, loving his touch and wishing they could indulge in more than a hug. All too soon he let her go, his hands sliding down her arms. “I knew you could do it. I don't know of anyone who has come close to co-ordinating all these incidents to make any sense.”<br/>
“Thanks, but what are you or Auvegen going to do about all this? The way this thing, this pandemic or plague or whatever is affecting the animals, is expanding. We could be overrun in less than a couple of months, using current projections.”<br/>
“We need to be doing something now. Bring all your stuff to the meeting and we'll hopefully have an answer to that question.” He patted her arm then let her go, leaving her standing in the middle of her office, her thoughts conflicted.<br/>
Fear gripped her for a moment before she mentally slapped herself and started to gather her notes and paraphernalia to take to the meeting.</p>
<p><br/>
X x x x</p>
<p><br/>
Mitch watched Jamie make her presentation again, this time to all the heads of departments, all of them focused on her and her information. He was truly impressed at the depth of data she'd accumulated in the short time she'd been working at Auvegen. It clearly showed that the world was quickly coming under attack from all quarters by the animals, birds, and insects, no country untouched by attacks, swarms, mutations, and plainly weird unexplainable events. In each and every case humanity came off second best, despite the military being involved. When a frontal attack wasn't winning, the fauna resorted to sneak attacks with insects, crawling and flying in swarms that defeated even the most heavily armored troops ranged against them. Europe and Africa were under siege, curfews, and proclamations insufficient to protest the populace in some places, the death toll mounting. Something would have to be done, some biological or pharmaceutical response to return the balance of power back to people, before the animal rebellion affected the structure of global society much further.<br/>
The round table had devolved into a discussion about what was happening and why. Was this a spontaneous mutation that caused usually solitary animals like male lions and bears to group together to attack towns and villages? What was causing the insects and birds to become so coordinated and focused on disrupting human life and food production?<br/>
Mitch rose to his feet, holding up his hands. “People. You've now seen the proof, the projections, the probable outcome if a solution to the animal crisis is not addressed or cured. I need you to give me solutions or possible ways of finding out how this has happened and what to do about it.”<br/>
Almost as one, the department heads left the table to return to their offices and start working on the problem. Jamie started to gather up her stuff, Mitch moving to stand beside her.<br/>
“Do you really think they'll come up with an answer?” Jamie asked, pausing in her tidying up.<br/>
“We have the best collection of brilliant minds in relation to the flora and fauna of this planet. If there is an answer to be found, I would willingly bet that they will find it.” Mitch replied, sounding confident in his brainiacs.<br/>
“What about you?” Jamie asked, picking up her pile of notes. “You're as smart as any of them.”<br/>
“Yeah. Now you've got the ball rolling, I'm going to be spending more time here. We need everyone working on this problem.”<br/>
Jamie nodded. “I understand. Do you still want me to do...this?” She canted her head to indicate her notes and pen drives.<br/>
“More than ever. We need to keep updated on any new developments, any information about government groups working on the same problem, scientific breakthroughs plus if there are any potential cures, all that sort of stuff. We need it collated and presented in a way everyone can easily understand, just like you did here.”<br/>
“So, still employed?”<br/>
Mitch bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Very much still employed. You do good work, Jamie Campbell.”<br/>
She basked in his praise, clutching her notebooks to her chest before starting to leave. “Just as well I enjoy doing this then, isn't it?”<br/>
Mitch grinned at her cheeky look before she left his office, the door shutting softly behind her.<br/>
“Jamie girl, you're are good at everything.”</p>
<p><br/>
X x x x</p>
<p><br/>
Another week went by and Jamie stared grimly at the map, the pattern of escalation undeniable. The daily mainstream news was full of more and more incidents affecting both wild and domestic creatures across the world, on land, in the sea, and the air. Travel by plane was becoming a hazard with flights limited to military or essential only, the criteria tight. Curfews were being implemented to prevent people from being attacked after dark, nocturnal hunters now occupying the shadows, hunting anybody who ignored the warnings. Camping and trips to the great parks were similarly discouraged and deemed dangerous, access to campgrounds no longer available, trails and tourist spots shut down with locked gates and fencing preventing anyone coming near. Zoos were coming more and more under threat from frustrated citizens wanting back their freedom to move around, private wildlife parks also coming under fire to destroy their big cats and predators before they became infected with whatever was causing the animals to turn on their keepers and the public. No one had a definitive hypothesis on how it had started or why, the same with a possible cure.<br/>
Another worrying trend she'd unearthed in her research was the rise of the mutants. It sounded very melodramatic but she didn't have another way of describing what was being reported. Out of Europe were reports of bears with leather armor and ants producing electricity. In Africa were strange manifestations of usually benign herbivores now displaying unusual eyes and aberrant behavior – attacking en-masse. One incident was particularly worrying – a case of human mutation where several people had been attacked by the individual and none survived, witnesses reporting that despite suffering grievous wounds, the person carried on, displaying heightened levels of aggression and physical changes. She had uncovered the report through less than legal means, but that didn't lessen its relevance. It was the same way she'd discovered a worrying report about a sloth that could cause tremors from its voice alone, and a lizard that could freeze solid everything around it if threatened. Neither had made the papers or news streams, the original source possibly military given the place she found it. Surprisingly, or not depending on how you viewed them, the conspiracy nuts were often the first to break any news, providing voice recordings and hacked reports to spread among others, like herself. The underground network, when you filtered out the rhetoric, was a rich resource of the bizarre and unverified facts, hacked intelligence, and captured recordings – both visual and audio. How long she would have access to those sources, given the current chaos starting to take over the world, remained to be seen.<br/>
Leaving her desk she went to the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror it was hard to miss the dark circles under her eyes and her general lackluster appearance. She and Mitch had met up only once in the past week, their night together feeling as it is was their last. He had stayed the night, waking up with her the next morning, that alone making her heart pound, not in excitement, but more in fear. As if reading her thoughts, Mitch had done everything to allay her trepidation, making much of sharing breakfast with her, another first, before leaving, Jamie following several minutes later. She cast the hotel room a long look before closing the door, feeling in her guts that it might be the last time she saw it. Now she stared at her reflection, the worry of the last few days written large on her features. Bending down, she splashed cool water on her face before patting her skin dry with a handtowel. She may not look better, but it helped to keep the panic at bay for a little longer.<br/>
Returning to her desk, she swiveled the chair about to stare out the window. She wondered how Chloe was settling in, back in France. Her friend had flown out on an ambassadorial flight, returning with several of her countrymen, and other European nationals, to their home base. It had been a tearful farewell for the two women, Chloe even more upset because of the lack of news about her fiancee, Jackson Oz. She hadn't heard from him in weeks, and despite Jamie doing her best, she had no news of Jackson or Abraham either. Jamie didn't pass on the information about the worrying mutations – animal and human - to her friend for obvious reasons, but she did promise to keep trying. Chloe was determined to do what she could when she arrived in France. For the time being the wedding was off, not because either Chloe or Jackson had changed their minds, simply because it was no longer a top priority. Jamie stood outside the French embassy until the cab containing her best friend was no longer in view, unashamedly brushing away the tears still falling. With that unhappy occasion behind her, she climbed into the back of the black sedan waiting a little way down the street for her. Mitch had insisted that she take advantage of the car he'd arranged for her, rather than use her own battered relic. It reinforced her feelings that life as they knew it would never be the same again if the coming ecological disaster was not stopped.<br/>
Back at the office, she heard her door open.<br/>
“Jamie?” Mitch soft query pulled her around. Getting to her feet she almost jogged across the room to meet him halfway, her emotions quickly running out of control so that she flung her arms about his neck and sobbed into his shirt. Mitch held her without speaking, one hand stroking her bright hair, the other holding her tightly against him. “Hey, sweetheart, it's alright.”<br/>
“No..no, it's not,” she retorted, her reply muffled by being held so close. “You...you haven't seen the latest...” She made to pull away but he wouldn't let her.<br/>
“It can wait.” He pressed a kiss to her crown. “I've missed you. Missed this.”<br/>
Jamie drew in a juddering breath. “I have too.” Again she made to pull back, afraid she'd be discovered weeping all over the boss. Mitch loosened his grip but didn't let her pull back far.<br/>
“Hey, it's okay.”<br/>
“Someone might see us,” Jamie mumbled, swiping at her face to clear away the tears. In reply, Mitch cupped her face, lifting her lips to meet his for a sweet, long kiss.<br/>
“Let them.” He raised an eyebrow above the rim of his glasses. “A man can't kiss his mistress when he pleases?”<br/>
Jamie, looking flushed, darted a look to left then right. “I thought we were keeping that...um...quiet?”<br/>
“Jamie girl, the world is rapidly going to hell in a handbasket, I don't think anyone will care.”<br/>
“Oh.” Jamie fiddled with the buttons of his plaid shirt, the material soft against her fingertips, the warmth of the man underneath seeping through. Mitch tried to see her expression, not sure how she was taking his declaration.<br/>
“Jamie, do you understand what I'm saying?”<br/>
She looked up into his face. “Well...er...not really.”<br/>
He gave her a crooked smile at her slightly bewildered expression. “I'm saying I don't want you to be my mistress anymore...” Before he could continue Jamie had forcefully used her hands against his chest to push him away, Mitch taking a step back as he staggered.<br/>
“You're breaking up with me?” She looked devastated, tears once more springing to her eyes. She turned away from him, her hands over her face, shoulders heaving. Mitch reached into his trouser pocket and drew something out.<br/>
“Jamie, I'm asking you to marry me..”<br/>
He stood so close that when she spun around, the tips of her hair brushed his face.<br/>
“What?”<br/>
“Jamie Campbell, will you marry me?” He held out the platinum and white diamond ring, Jamie blinking to clear her vision and focus on what he was offering.<br/>
“But...I thought...you haven't...I mean...oh.” She stared at him, fingers tips over her mouth.<br/>
Mitch watched as cautious hope crept into her features.<br/>
“I'm all yours if you want me.” He told her, never breaking eye contact with her. He saw the moment she accepted, her hands dropping to let her mouth curl up in a smile that blinded him.<br/>
“Okay.”<br/>
He blinked. “Is that a yes?”<br/>
Jamie bit her lip, still smiling. “It's a yes.” She held out her left hand. With fingers that shook ever so slightly, Mitch slid the ring on her finger before lifting it for him to place a kiss on it. Jamie waited for him to let go of her hand before once more throwing her arms about his neck to kiss him.<br/>
It was how Geoff Black found them several minutes later when he entered Jamie's office, looking for Mitch. He saw the ring on her finger and smiled knowingly. His private bet with himself had been right on the money. He waited for a few seconds more before clearing his throat to announce his presence When the couple had pulled apart and turned about he beamed at them like a proud uncle. “Congratulations to you both.” His smile turned into a grin, seeing the pair of them looking like teenagers caught making out, Mitch looking smug, his hand holding hers in a proprietary grip, Jamie looking somewhat embarrassed, her cheeks pink and eyes a little red from crying.<br/>
Geoff stood there, rocking on his heels, hands clasped behind his back, taking it all in.<br/>
“Um...I need to go....” Jamie indicated the bathroom and went to pull away. Mitch held her long enough to give her a quick kiss on the lips before letting her go, watching until she shut the bathroom door behind her.<br/>
“Great timing, Geoff.” Mitch groused, swinging back to face his security chief, his hands now stuffed in his jean pockets. “Did you want Jamie for something?”<br/>
“Jamie? No. I was looking for you.”<br/>
Mitch didn't look like he believed him for one moment, Geoff still beaming at his boss like the cat who caught the canary. “Well, you found me. What's up?”<br/>
With reluctance, Geoff wiped the smirk off his face and got back to business. He walked to the side of the room where a television screen sat. He picked up the remote and switched it on, quickly changing it to one of the twenty-four-hour news channels. “You need to see this.”<br/>
Red banners scrolled across the bottom and top of the screen, screaming in bold lettering that what they were watching was breaking news. The reporter, on one side of the screen, was talking while on the other was footage of people on the street running and screaming, police firing into the sky while millions of birds dive-bombed the fleeing populace, several bodies littering the street.<br/>
“Where is this?” Mitch asked. Geoff pointed to the small icon that listed the location. Mitch instantly left the tv to approach the wide windows that overlooked buildings all around them. In the far distance were the taller skyscrapers of Manhattan.<br/>
“Try these.” Geoff handed him a small pair of powerful binoculars. Mitch adjusted the focus after taking off his glasses.<br/>
Jamie appeared from the bathroom and walked towards the window, standing next to Mitch. “What are you looking at?”<br/> 
She turned to glance at the television, the reporter still excitedly relaying what was happening in the streets of New York.<br/>
“Oh, my God. Here?” She exclaimed. “It's reached here? Now?”<br/>
“See for yourself,” Mitch told her, handing over the binoculars for her to witness the phenomenon for herself. Jamie looked, adjusting the focus to bring the dark cloud into clarity, her lips parting in a gasp to see the sheer number of birds wheeling and diving between the buildings. It looked like a windblown cloud of black smoke. Having now seen the evidence of what was happening all around the world, right on their doorstep, Jamie stood shocked into immobility, the binoculars dangling from her nerveless fingers. Behind her, Mitch and Geoff were talking rapidly, Geoff producing a tablet from his jacket, his fingers dancing over the surface display. Within moments he was heading out of the office, leaving Mitch behind. Jamie turned to him.<br/>
“Is there anything we can do?” she asked, Mitch correctly interpreting that she was meaning Auvegen, not himself.<br/>
“We've been working on several projects to both diagnose and possibly cure, but none are advanced enough...we need more time.” He told her, running an agitated hand through his hair, the other hand resting on his hip. “We need to organize...”<br/>
Jamie remained quiet, letting him think. He looked up and met her gaze. “You can't go home. Here is possibly the safest place to be, right now.” He tried to keep the fear from his voice but didn't entirely succeed. Jamie approached him slowly.<br/>
“You can't house everybody, Mitch. People will want to go home, to their families, to their kids.”<br/>
“I'm not asking them, just you. I need to know you're safe and protected.” He looked fierce for a moment. “I can't do anything...create anything, if I'm worried about you.”<br/>
Jamie nodded. “Can I at least make one trip to get all my stuff?” she glanced down at herself. “I'm gonna need more than one change of clothes.”<br/>
Mitch stared at her for a moment, then visibly relaxed, letting the tension leech out of him. “Fine. But we go prepared and I'm coming with you.”<br/>
</p>
<p><br/>
X x x x<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Her small apartment was a long way from where the action was, but still the streets were full of more traffic than usual, plus people on the sidewalk hurrying, rather than just walking, to wherever they were going. Their driver was applying his horn, but they were making little progress. <br/>“We're only about a block from my place, we could walk from here?” Jamie suggested. Mitch chewed his lip for a moment.<br/>“Okay, run, not walk.” He replied tersely, turning to the driver a moment later. “Find a place to park, if you can, and look out for us. We won't be very long.” The driver acknowledged his instructions then waited for them to get out.<br/>Mitch grasped Jamie's hand and they started to weave through the throng of people surging along the sidewalk. They reached the entrance to the apartment, Mitch at her back as Jamie punched in the code, then they burst through, glad to shut the door behind them. Not bothering with the lifts, they took the stairs, quickly reaching her apartment level, Jamie fumbling with the keys before unlocking the door. Despite the insulating effect of the walls, they could hear the hubbub outside, the distant wail of sirens and babble of people rushing past. The door unlocked and they pushed inside slamming the door behind them. Jamie darted for the bedroom, Mitch crossing to the window to stare down at the roadway below. He also glanced up at the clear sky in case the birds could be seen although, as Jamie had stated, they were a long way from the epicenter – for now. Jamie appeared from the bedroom with a grip and backpack, both stuffed with clothes and personal effects. <br/>“Nearly finished.” She gasped, before darting into the bathroom. Within a minute she was out again, announcing she was done. Mitch grabbed the handles of the grip and headed for the door. Together they entered the hallway, several other occupants of the building doing something similar. They negotiated the stairs and exited the building, the wail of sirens closer now than before. Mitch was searching the street for their ride, Jamie shifting the pack hanging off her shoulder just behind him. <br/>A car down the street starting flashing its lights and hooting, Mitch raising a hand to show he'd noticed. “Come on, the car's this way.”<br/>This time they were going against the flow of people, battling their way through, Jamie cowering behind Mitch's body as he plowed forward. He was watching the sky and gritted his teeth when he saw a black cloud starting to fill the space between the buildings in the distance. The people ahead of them had sensed the danger and were now running in a panic, the car still some distance away. Mitch turned and grabbed Jamie's hand to drag her into the road where he started to run, dodging between the car to reach their own. The driver had the doors open, ready for them and they gratefully threw in her luggage before jumping in and quickly shutting the car doors, plus locking them. <br/>Jamie had barely caught her breath when the first bird struck, the dense cloud of birds so thick they blocked out the sun, casting the street into shadow.<br/>“Oh, my God!” Jamie exclaimed, the sound of multitudes of birds screaming and flapping deafening them, all of them clapping hands over their ears to drown it out. The sidewalk was quickly emptying of people as they found cover and residents opened door to let them in to shelter from the onslaught. The vehicle was rocking with the force of the wind generated by so many wings beating together, the air thick with black-feathered bodies, moving and jostling, screaming all the time, some falling to the ground dead from impacts with buildings, glass windows and the cars themselves. The wail of sirens was coming closer, the police apparently attempting to drive the birds from the streets but only succeeding in pushing them further into the buildings. Something pinged off the side window and Mitch dragged Jamie down into the footwell of the car, their driver ducking down on the front seat as bullets ricocheted all around them. The sound of glass cracking announced a bird or birds trying to get into their car, the windows all around taking the impacts of bodies against them, the scream of people heard above the birds as the feathered foe found ways to get to the people sheltering in the cars around them. All the time the air itself was drumming and beating like the flock of attacking birds was one entity, its purpose to terrify and destroy all it could. The scratching of claws against metal made Jamie just press herself further against the carpeted floor, making herself as small as possible, the feel of Mitch's warm hand on her back lost in her incipient panic. She barely heard Mitch reassure her the windows were bullet and bird proof, her eyes squeezed tight and hands pressed hard against her ears. Mitch raised his head only when the light started to return, the massive flock or swarm of birds finally passing on, leaving behind so many casualties, and a carpet of black, feathered bodies all around them. Their driver, Tom, also raised his head, staring in shock at the carnage everywhere, the black wall of creatures rapidly moving away down the street like a tidal wave, looking for new victims. <br/>Now they could hear the human toll, people shouting, screaming and crying, a policeman knocking on their door, shouting to ask if they were alright. Tom cracked the driver's side window and answered for them all. “We're fine, officer. No injuries here.” The policeman nodded grimly and moved on to the next vehicle in his task to offer what help he could. <br/>Mitch eased Jamie back onto the rear seat, holding her tightly as she shivered against him. Police and first responders were on the scene and before long they were able to move, along with the cars capable of doing so, clearing the area to allow the ambulance crews to attend to the injured and count the dead. Tom steered them off the main thoroughfare as quickly as possible, taking a backroads route to return them to Auvegen. Mitch held Jamie, never letting go, her shivering only stopping when they were finally approaching the outskirts of the complex. The town car swooped down the ramp to park in the underground carpark, the silence when the engine stopped almost as unnerving as the birds before. <br/>“Tom, we need to secure the garage, get the security door down!” Mitch ordered, their driver taking off towards the entrance and the booth where the controls were.<br/>“Come on, Jamie girl, we need to get inside,” He held out his hand and Jamie took it, sliding out of the back seat, her fingers firm and steady against his. She looked up at him. <br/>“I'm sorry for the hysterics back there...”<br/>Mitch waved his free hand to dismiss her apology. “Not surprising, I was pretty scared myself. Let's get inside and get this place secured.”<br/>Jamie nodded and followed him to the lifts.</p>
<p><br/>X x x x</p>
<p><br/>Those that wanted to leave were doing so, Jamie watching the steady stream of cars leaving the carpark and scattering in every direction among the surrounding roads. She was standing in Mitch's huge office, the floor to ceiling glass windows now covered on the outside by rigid metal shutters that lowered like a roller door. The mesh was tight enough to stop any but the smallest creature from getting through. Jamie wondered if Mitch had always known there would be a situation where the building would need to be protected in such a way, or if it was just a fortunate coincidence. She'd have to ask him. She was waiting for those that were staying to attend a meeting in Mitch's office. Jamie had brought in all her up to date information, the bird clouds added to bring it right up to date. Hearing the huge doors open, she walked over to the conference table and took her seat while several people entered, drifting to the table, some of them acknowledging her presence, while others were deep in conversation even as they sat down. Most of the people around her she recognized from previous meetings, but several regular faces were missing as well. Mitch appeared with the last attendees, leaving them to find their places while he approached the head of the table, sending Jamie a warm smile before facing everyone else, his expression suitably grave. <br/>His look around the table took in those that were missing, his mouth drawn into a tight line. “Thank you, everyone, for deciding to stick with us here. Many of the staff have chosen to leave and I don't hold that against them, I just wish them luck. Some of you may be aware that my trip across the river was not without some excitement.” He paused to glance at Jamie, before turning back to face the table. “We got to experience first hand what has been happening around the world. It would appear that the animal rebellion is now on our literal doorstep.” He turned to indicate the windows. “Due to forward planning, this building it being locked down to a level where nothing bigger than a flea can get inside. We are aware that insects have been behaving in ways that could pose a threat, but that has been thought of and measures are in place to prevent that happening here.” He looked around the table. “Some of you have already been working on ways to combat what is happening out there, and for as long as we can, we will continue to look for a solution to the animal crisis.”<br/>One of the people at the table spoke up. “What about collecting personal stuff, clothes, and the like from our homes?”<br/>Mitch nodded. “We are organizing and adapting vehicles to allow us to travel into the city. Once that is ready we will be taking you in small groups to do just that over the next few days.”<br/>“What about supplies?” someone else asked. <br/>“We don't know how long before the city devolves into anarchy if these animal attacks continue like the one we witnessed today. With that in mind, we are sending out a team to obtain food and other supplies. We are more fortunate than most in that we have our agricultural department growing a variety of crops, all of which will be available to supplement what is already on site. I have teams in each department cataloging anything that might be used to maintain the people staying here for the duration.” He paused. Jamie chose that moment to jump in.<br/>“Did you know this was coming?” She asked bluntly. “I ask because all this...” She indicated the fortified windows. “Seems to suggest what is happening is not coming as any surprise to you.” She returned Mitch's gaze with an unwavering stare. <br/>“Honestly? Yes, we did think that something like this was always a possibility.” He turned his head to take in everyone around the table. “In fact, there is one man who predicted exactly this happening – a professor Robert Oz. He was largely dismissed as a crackpot during his tenure, but after it was reported he died, some of his notebooks and research were forwarded to Auvegen by someone he worked with. She didn't want his life's work to be lost.”<br/>“Robert Oz?” Jamie asked faintly. “Did he happen to have a son?”<br/>Mitch sent her a questioning look. “With his first wife, Elizabeth. The boy's name was...”<br/>“Jackson Oz,” Jamie answered for him. “I know him!”<br/>Mitch frowned, sifting through what he knew about Jamie. “You mentioned your French friend was engaged to marry a man called Jackson.”<br/>Jamie nodded. “Jackson Oz. He's in Africa, supposedly gone to fetch his mother back to the US. She's a medical doctor working in Botswana. Jackson went there several weeks ago but dropped off the radar. I've been trying to find out what happened to him.”<br/>“I'd like to find him as well. Several of Robert Oz's journals are missing, along with a number of his voice tapes and flash drives. There are gaps that his associate couldn't account for other than they may be held by his family.”<br/>One of the others spoke up. “How did this Robert Oz predict this?”<br/>“He theorized that eventually the animals, and probably the insects would realize that they far outnumbered the human race. When they did, a radical change in their world view would precipitate a specific mutation, the Defiant Pupil. When that happened, then the animal uprising would start.”<br/>“Defiant pupil?”<br/>“The missing flash drives will probably fill the gaps in his theory, but in essence, the defiant pupil is like a coloboma in humans. A keyhole iris. In people, it occurs from birth, but as we've seen from the animal necropsy reports to date, it is appearing in animals at any age and seems to precipitate them turning on their owner, keepers and the population in general.” Mitch rubbed at his forehead then held his hands up to quiet the hubbub that followed. “Look. The iris mutation is just the visible symptom, not the cause. That is what we need to concentrate on and find some way of reversing or curing the subsequent violent behavior.”<br/>His audience stared back, struck by the enormity of the task. Mitch drew in a hard breath. “I have another snippet of important news in regards what is happening to the animals. It is starting to cross over into humans...” He waited for the expressions of shock to die away before continuing. “Jamie has more information on this newest revelation, so I'll ask her to elaborate.” <br/>Jamie rose to her feet and addressed the table. “I have come across several worrying reports about apparent cross-infection with a handful, at this stage, being reported. The information is not available to the public and usually comes through military channels, but so far there have been a number of documented cases around the world. One in Argentina, another in Africa, and possibly one in Biloxi, Mississippi.”<br/>“What happens to these people?” one of her audience asked.<br/>Jamie looked down at her notes. “From all reports the victims display hyper-aggression, physiological changes to their bodies with the bulking up of muscle mass, lengthening of fingernails, growth of elongated canines...”<br/>“That's impossible!”<br/>“Maybe, but these reports are not coming from the general public, these are from military medics. They also report that the victims seem impervious to pain, suffering traumatic injuries but not appearing to let that slow them down. One man had an arm severed at the shoulder, and that didn't prevent him from killing three soldiers before they were able to bring him down.” She paused to steady herself. “He had previously been a slender man, a scientist looking into what was happening, but this was what the soldiers encountered after it was reported this same man had slaughtered twenty villagers.” She handed around a black and white photo of the corpse. “They reported he was very fast, almost dodging their bullets in close quarters and immensely strong.”<br/>“His face...” Someone murmured. “He almost looks....simian.”<br/>Jamie continued. “According to the autopsy report, he appeared to have been bitten by an animal sometime in the previous week. His body fluids had turned black and his brain showed abnormal blood chemistry.” She sat down before the questions started. <br/>“Thank you, Jamie. People, we told you this to emphasize how important it is to find some way of combatting the animal situation. If this crosses into the general population....” He tailed off, making his point. The scientists and technicians around the table were already putting their heads together, discussing the problem. Mitch held up a hand. “This is only going to get worse before it gets better. Jamie will put together an information package on the latest news for you to digest. In the meantime, you will need to put aside anything you are working on right now and turn your attention to what can be done about this now.”<br/>The people around the table took that as their dismissal, getting up and talking among themselves. Mitch watched them go, Jamie lingering behind while she collected her scattered notes. When the last boffin had left his office he sat down beside her.<br/>“You okay?” he asked, trying to read her expression. Jamie carried on shuffling her paperwork. <br/>“I'm fine.”<br/>Mitch looked at her, one dark eyebrow rising. “Really? Because you don't look fine.”<br/>Jamie stopped her paper juggling and placed her hands flat on the tabletop. She looked up, meeting his questioning look. “It's not every day that a girl gets a proposal of marriage, attacked by a shit load of birds, and calmly discusses the end of the world as we know it.”<br/>Mitch nodded. “True. But there's something else, isn't there?”<br/>Jamie clasped her hands together. “Why do you want to marry me? Why now?” She paused, seeing the confusion on his face. “Don't get me wrong, the sex is great – exciting and vastly satisfying. But...”<br/>Mitch interrupted. “There's a but?”<br/>Jamie didn't flinch, keeping her gaze steady. “Yeah, Mitch, there is a but. We've known each other for what? Less than a year by my reckoning and not once in all that time have you mentioned love. In fact, neither of us has mentioned the “L” word, lots of other nice words but not that one.” She held up her hand, the diamonds glinting under the lights. “This is another pretty bauble but seriously, given all that is happening around us, and you've known about it some time, even prepared for it, why do you want to marry me?”<br/>Mitch sat back in his chair and stared back at her. “You seemed pleased enough when I proposed.”<br/>Jamie canted her head. “Yes. And I was, for a little while, then I started to think. Why do you want to marry me?”<br/>Mitch frowned down at the tabletop. “Why wouldn't I?” He glanced up at her. “You're a beautiful woman, we have a great physical relationship, you like what I give you...isn't that enough?”<br/>“For a mistress, sure.” She tried another tack. “You've been married before, haven't you?”<br/>“Yes. But we divorced many years ago. Your point is?”<br/>Jamie sighed. “And how many relationships have you had since then?”<br/>Mitch let out a bark of laughter. “Now you're my shrink, Jamie?” <br/>“No. I just...” She paused to gather her thoughts. “I like you, Mitch. I like you a lot. I just think...”<br/>Mitch threw up his hands. “There you go, thinking again. Look, I like you too, love what we do in bed together...” He leaned forward towards her. “I don't want to let you go.” His voice had dropped an octave, his words shivering up her arm like a caress.<br/>“I wasn't aware I had gone anywhere,” Jamie replied just as softly, reaching across to place her hand on his forearm. “Or even hinted that I was going anywhere. Marriage, even talking about it...it's too soon.” She reached for her left hand, his own coming over to stop her from removing the ring.<br/>“Don't. Please. Put it on another finger, or hang it around your neck, just don't return it.” <br/>She waited for him to release his grip on her hand. “Okay.”<br/>Mitch looked relieved, sitting back in his chair with the tense set of his shoulders slowly relaxing. “Okay.” He let out a breath, one hand reaching up to sweep his hair back. “So. Friends?”<br/>Jamie got up. “Friends with benefits.” She added. She gathered her notes and held them against her chest sending him a tentative smile which he returned.<br/>“This has only been shelved, Jamie girl.” Mitch intoned as she started to leave the table. Jamie looked back at him over her shoulder. <br/>“I know. I'll see you later.” <br/>Mitch watched the door close behind her, his eyes unfocused as his busy brain mulled over what she said. He had to admit he'd acted entirely on impulse. In truth, he couldn't put a label on what he and Jamie had, and she was right, they hadn't known each other very long, but something had attracted him right from his first sight of her, the feelings only getting stronger the more he knew her. Yes, the physical side of things was better than the best, in every way possible. His impulsive proposal an attempt to make sure she remained at his side in any way he could have her, but again, Jamie was right. He hadn't told her how he felt, only tried to show her, showering her with gifts and flowers and making the most of the time they had between the sheets. Obviously, that wasn't the right tactic and now, with the coming days, it was unlikely that he'd be able to do what he'd like to do, which was woo his Jamie girl, take her out, show her off, announce to the world that Mitch Morgan was well and truly taken by a slip of a woman with wavy red hair and a heart-melting smile. He smiled to himself. He'd never been this needy or greedy with his first wife – if he had he'd probably still be married, watching his daughter grow up and being the father he wanted to be. Instead, he let his company, his dream, soak up all his time and emotional input, at least until he'd seen Jamie at that conference. Suddenly his world had narrowed down to just her, his projects and research farmed out to others so he could concentrate on persuading her to become his mistress, engaging her on a level she embraced wholeheartedly. He was enchanted by her, humbled by the trust she placed in him, how she continued to trust him, and yet wasn't afraid to take him to task about his impetuous proposal without one word of love between them. What a fool he'd been. He'd forgotten how smart and clever his mistress was. He should have remembered how inciteful she was in her articles before skewering her prey and showing them up for what they were. That she didn't think his proposal was serious was a blow to his ego, but not the first, or the last time that would happen. He'd just have to find a way to convince her that he was sincere, that his emotions were well and truly engaged, and that he was the only man she needed in her life for now and forever.</p>
<p><br/>X x x x<br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>“Hey, Chloe. How are you?” Jamie listened as the line crackled and popped before clearing.<br/>“Jamie! How did you manage?...never mind. I've heard from Jackson!” Chloe's accent was more pronounced in her excitement. Jamie smiled<br/>“That's fantastic news. Where is he? Did he find his mother? How's Abe?” She didn't like to pepper her friend with questions but her time on the line was short. That they were able to connect was a small miracle given the state of general phone connectivity around the world. It was only because of their respective situations – Jamie being part of Auvegen and Chloe part of the French diplomatic contingent that they were able to talk at all. <br/>“Jackson is on a boat, along with Abe. His mother, Elizabeth is with them but she's in quarantine if I understand him correctly. We didn't have much time to talk.”<br/>Jamie frowned. “Quarantine? What happened?”<br/>“She was bitten by something, Jackson didn't say what.”<br/>Jamie drew in a short breath. “Poor Jackson. Where is the boat headed?”<br/>“It was the only means of transport for the evacuation. They left from a port on the coast of Namibia. Um...Walvis Bay? I don't know the name of the ship, but it is heading up the east coast of Africa to reach Gibraltar. That's about all I got before the call had to be ended.” <br/>Jamie heard the tears in her friend's voice. “Hey, at least you know he's alive and on his way back to you. That's good.” She could practically see her friend pull herself together and nod.<br/>“You're right. I was just so worried...” The line crackled. “I don't have much time, Jamie. There's so much happening here...”<br/>“Here, too. Keep safe, Chloe. I'll try and call you again in a little while...” The line crackled again. “Chloe?”<br/>“Keep..zzz...'afe, Jamie...” Then the line went dead and she stared at the satellite phone a moment before switching it off and setting it down. She swiveled in her chair and stared out of the mesh-covered window, lost in her thoughts. It had been a busy week since the meeting in Mitch's office and the announcement of the situation they found themselves in. The staff that had chosen to remain was small, a fraction of the usual number of employees. The bulk had decided to return to their families and take their chances with the mayhem happening in cities all across America. Jamie herself hadn't left the confines of the complex since the disastrous trip to get her belongings and the attack of the birds. What staff had stayed were housed in the few apartments or offices set up to accommodate them, some simply putting a camp-bed in their own office and sleeping there. They ate communally in one of the smaller staff canteens, transferring from the larger set up what they needed before shutting them down. The listing of resources was done and allocated or moved depending on need and rosters set up to care for those involving crops and animals. Jamie had to give credit that Mitch had tried to think of everything in his forward planning, even to the removal of waste and rubbish, both human and animal without putting anyone at risk from what was happening beyond their walls. The local and international news agencies were keeping a running tally of deaths from animal or insect attacks across the world, the figures making grim reading. The bird attack she'd experienced had been followed up with subsequent attacks by different animals and insects, routing the population, causing them to flee in all directions. Unfortunately, the places left that were not experiencing animal attacks were shrinking by the day. Soon there would be no safe places left to run to. As if nature had decided to create a full-on assault against mankind, the weather had been foul with storms battering the east and west coast and sweeping through states north and south. Unprecedented volumes of rain had fallen causing extensive flooding, some of them deemed one hundred year events, while hail and sleet had struck communities that normally were too hot to warrant such weather. It was as if Mother Nature was sounding time and humans were being given their marching orders. Economies were feeling the strain and it was predicted that food shortages wouldn't be far off, affecting every continent. Jamie smiled thinly to herself. It was every survivalist or preppers dream come true. Sighing, she turned back around and stared down at the notes spread over her desktop. All the people infected by an animal bite had, to date, been tracked down and terminated, according to the chatter she'd been keeping tabs on. Not one of the subjects had been allowed to live to infect others, or so it was supposed, but in some areas where the cross-contaminated humans had carried out their attacks, more and more people were starting to surface with similar symptoms – uncontrollable rage, impervious to pain, incredible strength never seen in that person before. The commonality appeared to be that they had come into contact with the person infected before they fully changed into the homicidal killing machine they ultimately became. None of the new cases had been bitten by an animal or insect but had lived in close contact with the infected person and later avoided being killed by that person. It all indicated that whatever it was, had mutated into a viral contaminant, possibly airborne or passed through bodily fluids rather than a direct injection through a bite. With the movement of people across the world, it made tracing those possibly infected very difficult, if not impossible. It was also pointed out that it was almost impossible to detect if somebody was infected until they turned, an apparently rapid progression, and started to kill or attack the people around them. Everyone in Auvegen was made aware of the news as soon as it came in, making for a tense environment with all the members on the scientific team pushing themselves to come up with an answer. Mitch drove himself the hardest, making use of his contacts with other scientific communities and companies to keep up to date with the latest developments or theories, and any other information to help his own team get ahead and produce a cure. Jamie often found him asleep at his desk or stretched out on a couch in one of the labs or offices, having worked late into the night. Apart from the occasional hug or hastily snatched kiss, their physical relationship was on hold for the time being, everyone's focus turned to the situation taking over the country and the world.</p>
<p>His ring hung on a long chain around her neck, hidden under the neckline of her t-shirt, long enough to allow the ring to nestle in her cleavage, what little there was. Jamie had always been slender, but more recently she'd lost weight. She put it down to the stress of their situation, her sleep often punctuated with nightmares about sharp beaks and swirling black clouds cutting off the light and choking her. Those nights she would usually wake up on her office couch, sweaty and panicked, and glad to be the only witness to the horrors. Jamie would get up and pad over to the small bathroom to splash water on her face and have a drink.</p>
<p>After a particularly harrowing dream, she gave up on sleeping any more that night and went to the bathroom. When she turned on the faucet the water barely trickled out of the tap, her brow furrowing at the sudden lack of pressure. Another thing to mention to Geoff when she next saw him. The security chief was the go-to for any problems in regards the building or supplies, so she thought for a moment then decided it was too important to put off.</p>
<p><br/>She rounded a corner only to see Geoff Black surrounded by a bevy of people all shouting and gesticulating, the words becoming clearer the closer she got. <br/>“We can't exist without water...”<br/>“Are we under siege?”<br/>“What about the toilets?”<br/>Jamie hovered on the fringes and watched. Geoff put up his hands to quiet the irate group.<br/>“People. Please. The water issue is being investigated. It has only just happened, and as soon as we can, we will have the water running again. In the meantime, please return to your stations, I will send a memo when the water is flowing pnce more.”<br/>His audience grumbled among themselves but started to break up, wandering away from the reception area back to their labs and offices. Jamie approached, her arms crossed over her chest, Geoff giving her a tight smile of acknowledgment.<br/>“Problem?” Jamie asked.<br/>Geoff gave her a look, then appeared to relax. “Yes. And no.” He saw Jamie raise her eyebrows and held up a hand. “Yes. The water is off, but we have storage tanks, so there is no shortage of water itself. No. It shouldn't be a problem, but this is something more than just the pump not working.”<br/>Jamie looked at him shrewdly. “Given what is going on outside of here, I'm not surprised.”<br/>“Unfortunately, what is going on outside is not staying outside,” Geoff informed her.<br/>Jamie looked alarmed. “Has something got inside?” She looked around, feeling panic well up inside her. Geoff shook his head. <br/>“Not exactly. Something has come through the pipes and contaminated the water supply.” He told her. “We managed to isolate the tank from the others, but because it was the first in line, we now have to divert a pump to hook up to the remainder before we can turn the water on again.”<br/>“Contaminated? With what?”<br/>“Mitch is trying to find out now. He took samples to his lab, why don't you ask him?”<br/>Jamie nodded, the two of them heading off in different directions. Jamie felt a shiver snake down her spine, her feet on the tiled floor sounding echoey as she approached the big doors that barred Mitch's office, which now also served as his laboratory. The doors swung open at her approached and she entered the huge space, seeing Mitch perched on a stool, his head bent as he peered into the eyepiece of a microscope.<br/>“Mitch?” Jamie's soft query drew his attention away from the sample. He looked up and blinked, reaching for his glasses.<br/>“Hey. Something up?”<br/>Jamie stood beside him, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Geoff told me about the water. Find anything?”<br/>Mitch looked pained, his dark brows pulling together. “Dammit, I didn't want him to worry you.” He let out a gusty sigh and turned back to the microscope. “Yeah. I found something. Not what I was expecting...here, look for yourself.” <br/>Jamie leaned forward and peered into the lens, seeing something literally swim into her focus, several tiny micro-organisms thrashing about in the liquid. She leant back. “What are they?”<br/>“Some sort of water-borne creature, but not one I can identify. It has several features of other organisms, but looks more like a mixture of several rather than a mutation of one.”<br/>Jamie stared back at him. “Wouldn't the filtering system keep them out?”<br/>Mitch shrugged. “You'd think so, but apparently these particular bugs just chewed their way through the filters, barely slowing down on their way to entering the storage tank.”<br/>“What about the chemicals used to treat the water?” she asked, looking perplexed.<br/>“I've dropped a range of chemicals on different samples and not one reacted. If these were your normal everyday critters they'd all be dead or severely reduced in numbers. Instead, they seem to be thriving.”<br/>“Thriving?” Jamie worried her thumb with her teeth. “Are they natural?”<br/>Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Good question. They look natural, except I've never seen, nor has anyone else, this particular type of organism, and their behavior and reactions to the usual deterrents seem to imply they have been made immune...designed to resist the normal efforts to keep biologicals out of a water system intended for drinking.”<br/>“So, if this came through the normal water pipe, it must be in the reservoir or the source of the water?”<br/>Mitch nodded. “That's the implication. The question is where have they come from? And if created by someone, then who? And why?”<br/>Jamie looked grim. “Do we know how they will affect anyone who drinks them?”<br/>Mitch shook his head. “I'm not about to ask anyone to ingest these critters. I am testing them on some smaller mammals. Just started that test today.”<br/>“The poor creatures.” Jamie murmured. Mitch sent her a wry look. “Better them than us.”<br/>Jamie suddenly clutched at his arm. “Have we caught them in time? What if we're already infected with them?”<br/>“We were alerted the moment they entered the first tank. The guy on the monitoring system reported that the emergency valves to the other tanks shut off the instant they were alerted to the influx, so any water we drink now is not contaminated. I've checked. None of the samples submitted showed any of these.” He pointed to the microscope.<br/>“Then we just wait to see what happens to the infected animals?” <br/>Mitch nodded. “That's the plan.”<br/>Jamie looked a little ill. “Before you ask, no, I don't want to see them, or see what is happening to them.”<br/>Mitch sent her a lopsided grin. “Where's your scientific curiosity, Jamie girl?”<br/>“I leave all that to you boffins to enjoy.” She turned to go, but Mitch stopped her.<br/>“Hey. I'm sorry we haven't had much time together...”<br/>Jamie sent him a small smile. “Not exactly the most romantic of settings, hiding away from crazy animals and finding horrible creepy crawlies in our drinking water.” She leant in and kissed him lingeringly on the lips. “Don't sweat it. I'm sure you'll make up for it later.” she turned once more to go and he let her, watching the sway of her hips and the bounce of her ponytail until she left his office and was lost to sight. Sighing, he turned back to the microscope and folded his arms across his chest. <br/>“What haven't I tried yet?”</p>
<p><br/>X x x x</p>
<p><br/>The results of the animal testing were both repulsive and exciting, from a scientific perspective. Whatever animal was exposed to the micro-organisms rapidly started to change into hyper-aggressive versions of themselves. They also became mutated in size, strength, and murderous intentions, regardless of age, gender, or previous behavior. Observations noted that male animals killed off all rival males but preserved a breeding harem, regardless of species, and they were able to pass on the mutations they experienced to their offspring, infecting the mothers and babies alike. The level of aggression and territorial behavior lowered once the females started to produce litters, in the case of mice and rats. In larger mammals, a similar state occurred depending on how long the females were gestating. The larger the animal, the bigger and more aggressive response to the alien organism. When extrapolated to humans it explained a lot of the reported events about humans rampaging and killing off supposed rivals in large numbers, but not that the females under or over a certain age. It was suggested that only women of a certain age or ability to breed might be left unharmed, but none of the humans affected by the mutations had been allowed to live long enough to study if this was the case. For now, it would remain just a theory. <br/>The city beyond their walls had been reduced to anarchy and chaos. With the water contaminated, but the knowledge not widely known, the human population was starting to show the symptoms of the micro-organisms. Several times Jamie was alarmed to hear gunfire from the carpark below her office, the view showing her several bodies laid out among the parking spaces and abandoned cars, Geoff and his small security team stopping any incursions by infected people. The chainlink fence around the building was littered with the bodies of mutated humans and animals who had tried to climb over it. Regular patrols and camera footage alerted the men to where they were needed, some of the attackers stopped by the high voltage current running through the metal links, others needing a more deadly force to stop them entering the narrow space and from there, the Auvegen building itself. When the first scientist started to display the early symptoms of infection, panic broke out among the small population. Someone had become lax in the way they handled the animals and been bitten, infecting him. Then he'd attacked one of the others in his department and it escalated from there. Fear was a tangle presence with everyone looking sideways at everyone else. Geoff had issued Jamie with a gun and she learned how to use it with Mitch's encouragement and the security chief's tutelage. Despite ethical considerations, the infected scientists became study subjects, the better to find out how the mutations occurred, and the rapid rate of infection. The animals that had been part of the study were euthanized to prevent the same accident happening again, the team studying them having obtained all they could to further efforts of stopping or reversing the advancing changes. Nothing had been found to date. Jamie still maintained a watch on what sources were still available to her from within the States and the world beyond. Everywhere was affected by the water-borne virus, the entire eco-system of the planet changing as it spread and infected more and more animals, sometimes borne by birds or flying creatures, other times by insects biting hosts, both animal and human. The armed forces were as helpless as anyone else on the planet surface, the death toll rising by the hour. One of the scientific teams theorized that the Earth would become completely overrun by the virus within a month, leaving only those that could guarantee an organism free water supply, and some way of keeping the fauna of the Earth out, as the ones to survive unchanged. <br/>Their study of one of the infected members of their team did not bode well, the man's brain knocked back to a state of basic function and minimal reactions. Whatever he'd known before had been lost, his need for food and water and to procreate his only motivations. He had lost the ability to speak and reason within forty-eight hours of being infected, his body going through a series of extreme changes until he reached his ultimate form by the end of five days, completely unrecognizable from the man he'd been. None of the efforts of his colleagues had halted or even slowed down the process of change and, more importantly, they were no closer to a cure for whatever he was suffering from. Only an almost lethal dose of anesthetic would keep him down for any length of time, the effect on his internal organs every time they used it, likely to kill him long before a bullet did.</p>
<p><br/>The human race was being reduced to the state of a stone age savage and nobody knew how to stop it.</p>
<p><br/>X x x x<br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>“Jamie.” Mitch's sibilant whisper woke her up into darkness and she jerked.<br/>“Mitch?”<br/>“Get dressed. We have to leave.”<br/>Jamie could only see him as a slightly denser shadow in the dark of her office. As her eyes adjusted she could see him more clearly. “What is it? Has something happened?”<br/>“Geoff and his team are going to get some of us out of the building. It's no longer safe here.”<br/>While she listened she started to pull on clothes, her brain racing to think of what she needed to take. “Who is 'some of us'?”<br/>Mitch had turned on the small reading lamp she kept by the couch. His face looked older, more drawn. “You, me, his team....”<br/>“That's it?” Jamie squeaked. “Where are we going to go? How is it any safer out there?” All the time she spoke she was finishing dressing, lacing her boots that she kept permanently by the couch. “Mitch?”<br/>“He got out, Jamie. He's loose somewhere in the building.”<br/>“He?” She queried, then her brain caught up. “Oh, my God. You mean the infected scientist?”<br/>She saw Mitch nod his head, then he turned, hearing something. “We need to hurry this along.”<br/>Jamie was already grabbing her backpack and racing to her desk, then the bathroom, scooping up a few personal belongings along the way. “I'm nearly done.” She gasped, hurriedly fastening the buckles and slinging the pack over her shoulder. “ Ready.”<br/>Mitch grabbed her hand and they approached her office door. He eased it open, then pulled it wide to step out into the corridor. Geoff Black was waiting for them, armed with an assault rifle and wearing body armor.<br/>“Good. We think he's on the floor above, so we need to use the stairs to get down to the garage below. Ready?” He waited for the other two to nod before turning his back on them to lead the way. Jamie's heart was thumping in her chest, but even so, she could hear distant sounds, sometimes of stuff being thrown against walls and floors, other noises sounding more animalistic – screams and bellows from above their heads and echoing around the empty building. Black lead them along the poorly lit corridor to the exit for the stairs, easing the door open and checking upwards and down for any sign of trouble. He waved Mitch and Jamie through and they started downwards, their feet clattering on the concrete stairs, all three in a hurry to put as much distance between them and whatever was above. When they reached the basement, they heard a door bang on a floor somewhere above and they froze, listening. A muted roar echoed down the stairwell, motivating them to move forward at a run, not bothering to stop the exit door banging shut behind them. In the basement carpark, they ran full pelt across the empty spaces towards a collection of vehicles gathered to one side. Jamie saw her driver, Tom among the heavily armed security team, all of them wearing substantial body armor like soldiers on the front line. When the small party of three arrived they dispersed to load into the gathered vehicles, all of them, like their occupants, now heavily armored with security screen mesh on all the windows with reinforced side and roof panels and covering to protect the tires. Jamie was just climbing into one of them when a loud crash announced the arrival of the mutated scientist, no longer recognizable as a man, through the stairway exit, the doors of the vehicles all shutting and locking, the roar of engines drowning out all other sounds. Tom was driving their armored car, pulling out to follow the one in front when something hit the side, shunting them despite the car weighing over two ton. Gunfire instantly peppered the concrete around them as the other cars front and back tried to take down the enraged mutant. They were all racing for the garage underground entrance, the mutant doing its best to stop any of the vehicles, but seeming to concentrate on the one carrying Jamie and Mitch more than the others. Headlights bounced of columns and walls as one by one the armored cars raced out into the night, picking up speed and outdistancing the mutated man who howled his loss behind them. Having left the Auvegen building they headed down the road, not pausing or stopping for anything or anyone. The two-way radio on the dashboard squawked and the security man next to Tom picked it up. “Gen one all okay, over?” The voice on the radio barked.<br/>“Gen one a-okay,” their security man answered, glancing over at Tom who nodded.<br/>In the backseat, Jamie clutched at Mitch's hand as the convoy sped through the streets. Not having left Auvegen in the weeks following the attack of the birds, it came as a shock to see the state of the city outskirts. Street lights were still functioning and together with the headlights of the cars, illuminated the evidence of damage and violence done to all the buildings flashing past. Litter blew about the footpaths and gutters while the lead vehicle led them through a maze of abandoned vehicles, some overturned, others obviously set on fire, just burnt shells left.<br/>“Where are we going?” Jamie asked, staring at the smashed windows and shattered glass littering the road and sidewalk.<br/>Mitch gave her hand a squeeze. “We're heading north, ultimately, but for now we just need to find a way out of New York.”<br/>Jamie pulled her hand away, covering her face instead, the enormity of what they'd done washing over her. “Those poor people...” She pulled her hands away and turned to face him. “How could you leave them behind!”<br/>Mitch tracked the slow progress of a tear rolling down her face. “We didn't have a choice. Most of the people that stayed behind were dead before I even came to wake you.”<br/>Jamie stared at him, her eyes wide. “You knew all of them, better than I did...how could you?”<br/>Mitch stared back, his eyes shadowy in the gloom of the back seat. “I didn't have a choice. It all happened so fast we had little time to prepare.”<br/>Jamie pointed to the vehicles ahead and behind them. “Don't lie to me, Mitch. You had enough time to do all this!”<br/>“You can thank Geoff for all this. It was always understood that we'd need to leave the building for one reason or another. He had this well underway even before I suggested it.” He ran a hand over his head, ruffling his hair into spikes. “If there had been any way to save more...”<br/>Jamie blinked at him for a moment then turned her face away, hunching herself into the corner, up against the door, staring blindly out at the passing chaos. Mitch sighed inwardly and watched the streets roll by. There was little to show for all the people that used to occupy the skyscrapers, shops, and office buildings around them, the road giving some indication of the level of panic people must have been in, attempting to escape the animals and insects and then later, the mutated humans. They were still setting a fast pace in their effort to escape the city confines but they would have to cross one of the bridges across the Hudson. They had already passed evidence of several blockades across the road they were on, what they intended to blockade was moot, but none of them had proved effective. The further they headed north, the fewer barricades had to be negotiated. The sky to the east was starting to lighten before they saw any movement among the wreckage of Manhattan, heading up the eighty-seven to cut through Yonkers. It was obvious that it had been some time since the sound of vehicles driving through had been seen or heard, several windows lighting up just ahead, the outline of people at the windows watching them pass. At street level, there was nothing to indicate any of the buildings were inhabited, the roads covered in rubbish drifts and abandoned cars, many damaged as if dropped from a great height or trampled on by a herd of heavy herbivores. The radio on the front dashboard continued to relay instructions and information on the way ahead, their armored car being in the middle of the convoy. Mitch listened with half an ear, his mind conflicted as to whether he should inform Jamie of the whole, rather than just a small snippet of what had really happened back at Auvegen. He glanced over to where she still huddled into the corner, staring blindly out at the passing scenery. He doubted she saw much, wrapped up as she was in her silent grief. If she knew the whole would it make it better or worse for her? He grimaced to himself. Probably worse. There was little enough good news to give out, America was largely lost to the worldwide pandemic affecting the animals, and now the people. Of course, there were small pockets of hold outs – military bases were becoming centers for uninfected refugees, those that had been lucky enough to be tested before all hell broke loose. The rest had to camp outside the reinforced borders and wait, pinning their hopes on safety in numbers – a false hope. Nature had managed to successfully rout the human population from their city enclaves and scatter them into the countryside, reducing the crowds to mere gatherings, groups spreading further and farther into the empty land beyond the city limits. Those that hadn't died in the first few weeks were now becoming part of the problem, no longer victims but savage hunters, ransacking any building, either commercial or private for sources of food, fending off or killing rivals in bloodbaths of savagery. Now, with their numbers thinned down to only the strongest survivors, they were starting to follow the fleeing populace, behaving like lions following a herd of zebra, compelled by their new physiology and reptilian brains to seek out new sources of food and mates, or die in the attempt. Life had been reduced from civilization to kill or be killed in a matter of weeks. The facts that Mitch had been presented with, in the last few days, made for grim reading, and only one possible choice. Escape. The advent of the rampaging mutant in the laboratory only narrowed their options, Geoff Black and his security team making good use of their time and being ready in an instant to evacuate as many as they could within reason. Mitch had no idea how many had in fact been saved, it was possible it was only Jamie and himself, but until they stopped – probably sometime in the next twelve hours by choice – they wouldn't know. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>They crossed the Hudson on the eye eighty-seven, the suspension struts appearing like white sails in the bright morning light in the center of the twin spans. The column of heavily armored vehicles dodged and swerved around the hulks of abandoned cars and trucks, someone ahead of them having already shoved several to the side to clear a passageway, no sign of people or animals left behind. Jamie was starting to feel seasick from the constant jolting and swerving at speed, her face still turned away from Mitch, who hung onto the hand strap above the side window to brace himself. Neither of them had spoken since leaving Auvegen, Jamie still in shock at the suddenness of their departure, leaving behind those brave souls that had opted to remain and work on the cure. Mitch had told her they were dead, but she didn't know what to believe anymore. The world, as they'd known it, was fast disappearing and becoming...what? She didn't know. <br/><br/>They reached the other side of the bridge and plowed on, negotiating the remains of a barricade that had once spanned the roadway, now bent and twisted as if blasted apart to clear a way through. Jamie tried to close her eyes, but the constant jolting made sleep unattainable so she sat up, reaching up for the hand strap to steady herself. Mitch glanced over at her but didn't speak, judging it not the right time for conversation, his lips pressed together in a tight line beneath the day-old growth showing against his skin. <br/>Jamie was intensely curious about where they were heading, but was still angry at him, her thoughts full of invectives she'd like to shout at him but not wanting to lash out without cause, other than her over-riding fear and worry about their future. Looking out at the city around them she wondered if anything would return to normal. Seeing the level of destruction on the road and on the building facias, it was hard to believe they were traveling through anything other than a war zone. She was surprised at the lack of dead bodies on the highway but supposed that whoever had cleared the road to allow a passage through, had cleared away the human remains as well. The deserted buildings mocked the column of cars hurrying past, the complete absence of the usual traffic noise, horns blaring and brakes screeching was reducing the once-thriving metropolis to a ghost town. Where had all the people gone? Had the animals, birds, and mutants driven them all out of the city? Was New York to be left to molder into decay without even a token fight?<br/>“Where have they all gone?”<br/>Her quietly spoken query made Mitch turn his head sharply to look at her. <br/>“Jamie?”<br/>She pulled her gaze away from the window to stare back at him bleakly.<br/>“Where did they go?”<br/>Mitch looked past her to the devastation all around them. “I don't know. Maybe they haven't gone but are just in hiding?”<br/>Jamie stared back at him for a moment, then blinked and turned away to peruse the multitude of abandoned cars and burnt-out hulks whizzing past the window. <br/>Mitch continued to look at her, noting the lines lightly scoring her profile as she frowned at the view. He had no reply for her so eventually turned to look out his own side without answering.<br/><br/>On the other side of the river, the level of destruction was hidden by the dense tree cover, the thick foliage covering the low hills screening everything other than the highway itself. That remained still littered with broken-down vehicles but now further apart and not so densely packed so there was less need to dodge and weave, the caravan of Auvegen survivors picking up speed at they continued to head north. <br/>Neither their driver nor the security man up front exchanged any conversation, the atmosphere in the vehicle strained. Only the occasional crackle from the radio interrupted the silence. <br/><br/>It was still morning when they reached Albany, the radio giving all the drivers an update on where they would be making a stop. Jamie was starting to feel uncomfortable and needing a comfort stop but hesitated to voice her request, given the situation. The roads were still cluttered with broken-down vehicles but not to the extent they'd already passed through back in New York. The leader of their group had enforced that the passengers were to wait until the security team had established a safe zone before leaving their car and not to wander off without an armed escort. <br/>At length, the convoy pulled off the main highway and quickly found an open plan retail center - the Stuyvesant Plaza. The vehicles drove slowly around the carpark, noting the number of vehicles parked there and their condition, the shops looking well looted with broken windows and goods scattered all over the ground outside each one. When they finally stopped the security man from each car spilled out, automatic rifles at the ready, twisting, and turning in place to cover everything within eyeshot from the rooves to the ground. Their man had left his door open and the eerie silence was unnerving to those still inside the cars. Only the tramp of booted feet as the security team swept the carpark for any sign of movement or threat. At length, they were given the all-clear to leave their cars. Jame was glad to stretch her legs after the strain of the last three hours, the abandoned cars and scattered trolleys giving the scene an eerie vibe. Mitch walked around to her side of the car and briefly touched her arm to draw her attention to him. <br/>“We don't have long to make use of the facilities...”<br/>Jamie nodded and followed him towards one of the shops that had been cleared by the team for use. It was a pottery and gift shop, the front windows laying in shards over the display, the interior littered with broken china and scattered knick-knacks. Jamie was ushered forward to use the bathroom first, none of the men taking their eyes off the frontage, the others outside scanning the skies and perimeter for any movement. <br/>Feeling more comfortable, Jamie left the bathroom, escorted outside again by one of the men, the short walk to the car negotiated without incident. As she sat in the back seat a shout went up and all of the guns now pointed towards a section of the building. Jamie twisted in her seat to see what they had detected, her breath filling her chest in a gasp. <br/>Lined up along the roof ridges of the different shops was an unbroken line of birds silently perched and watching, only disturbed by the occasional ruffle of feathers or sharp chirp as they jostled closely together. They were not all the same breed, several larger and smaller varieties in the mix, but they all faced in the direction of the convoy, looking as if they were just waiting for the word before attacking. Mitch was just exiting the shop and looked up before being hustled to jog back to the car and join Jamie in the back. The birds remained where they were, barely twitching or flapping, just watching out of a thousand beady black eyes that never wavered from their scrutiny of the humans moving below. <br/>“What are they waiting for?” Jamie whispered as if the birds might hear her. <br/>Mitch shook his head. “No idea. It's as if they are expecting something to arrive or happen before they move. Maybe they are just cautious.”<br/>The radio on the dashboard crackled and orders spilled out for everyone to get back into their vehicles and prepare to leave. Only when the last man and his gun were once more inside and the door shut did the creatures keeping watch make any movement. As one, they lifted into the air, the beating of their wings thunderous in clear air, the flock wheeling as one to fly away from the shopping plaza and disappear beyond their line of sight. <br/>Mitch let out a breath and leaned his head back against the cushioning as their car started to move, snaking out of the carpark and back onto the road to find their way once more heading north on the main highway out of Albany. <br/>Jamie stared around, at the sky and the surroundings but there was no hint that any birds were anywhere to be found. “Where did they all go? And why?” she asked, sitting back against the squabs and doing up her seatbelt. Mitch shrugged. “Maybe they were just lookout's, scouts for whatever else is out there.”<br/>Jamie stared at him. “Surely that would mean they can communicate, interspecies or something like that?”<br/>Mitch nodded, letting out a sigh. “It's not without precedence. It was already documented that some animal attacks appeared to be co-ordinated. That some of the creatures seemed to be able to alert others of their own kind and even of other kinds to congregate in a certain area at the same time.”<br/>“Sure. The cats in Los Angeles, the male lions in Botswana.”<br/>“Exactly. It was theorized, as outlandish as it appears, that some of the animals were displaying the ability to project their emotions across distance both large and small. That what they were feeling could be transmitted to others of their kind. If we accept that, then it isn't a great leap to suggest that the animals and insects could possibly communicate between each species and across continents. There was a case of South American bats flying all the way down to Antarctica just to cover the solar panels of a pair of scientists until they froze to death. It wasn't the impossibility of them being able to travel that far, it was more the co-ordinated planning that was required to carry out what they did, even to know where the scientists were.”<br/>“Telepathy?” Jamie suggested.<br/>“Maybe. We know that noise underwater, the sounds that the whales make, can travel for hundreds of miles, transmitting to all the creatures under</p>
<p>the sea in all directions, so why not in the air as well. Just because we can't hear it with our inadequate ears, doesn't mean it isn't heard.”<br/>“Like the silent dog whistle?”<br/>“Exactly.”<br/>Jamie sat for a moment digesting his comments, then she lifted her head and looked at him. “So who were the birds transmitting to?”<br/>Mitch shook his head. “I don't know. It wouldn't be the mutated humans, the ear and brain are simply not sensitive enough to pick up ultra-high frequencies like dogs or cats. More likely they simply communicate with their own kind.”<br/>“God. It's unbelievable.”<br/>Mitch grunted in agreement. “It would also give the animal kingdom a distinct advantage over humans.”<br/>Jamie blinked at him, trying to process it all. <br/>“Where does that put us on the food chain?” she asked quietly.<br/>Mitch stared at her gravely. “Without their natural fear of us, and without the protection of guns and modern technology, we are just another prey animal waiting to be hunted.”<br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>The first indication, since they'd left Manhattan, that people were still in evidence was a roadblock that stretched across both sides of the highway. <br/>They had continued to use the eye eighty-seven, heading north into the Andirodack's, approaching the outskirts of Saratoga Springs, intending to blast straight through, but stopped dead by the barricade.<br/>It was constructed of a multitude of vehicles, not just cars, but big trucks, tankers, buses, and even motorcycles. They had chosen a deep cutting so there was no way to go around it, under a vehicle overpass, so that it wedged like a cork in a bottle allowing nothing to go through. All along the edge of the overpass was a metal fence behind which, it was supposed, the people that build the barricade could see the approach of any vehicle and decide what happened after they stopped. <br/>Mitch and Jamie peered forward between the front seats, trying to make out what was up ahead, seeing very little as they were several cars back from the front leader. The radio had commanded that no one leave their car and to maintain radio silence for the time being. <br/>In the lead car, Geoff Black eased himself out from behind the wheel, stepping onto the scarred road surface, his hands raised above his head. On the overpass a number of people could be seen, all pointing weapons at him. <br/><br/>They were too far back to hear the conversation between the occupants of the lead car and the people on the bridge, the atmosphere in their vehicle tense and anxious. They had been told to wait, so they did. After what seemed like hours, the radio crackled and Geoff addressed the convoy. <br/>“We've reached an impasse. There is no way through that doesn't involve being investigated by this militia. They are heavily armed and determined. To avoid casualties on both sides I've agreed to a parlay. To get past this point it is that or turn back. They need to know we're clean. To do that they need to see us with their own eyes. I've agreed. They assure me they are clean too, so the risk of infection should be minimal. Weapons will need to be left in the cars, we will be searched so no heroics. If we are given the all-clear we'll be able to proceed past this point. Understood? Just signal me when I call you with a single burst, no chatter. Car two?”<br/>It went down the line, each radio operator sending a single burst to indicate they understood the orders. When the last car signaled, Geoff started up his lead car and they performed a u-turn and followed the instructions he'd been given to use the offramp and approach the militia waiting for them at the top of the road. The move was all executed in slow motion to prove the convoy was not a threat or to provoke the defenders on the bridge. Geoff had seen the results of those that chose to ignore, as did all the others when they finally approached the barricade, smoking corpses and burnt out cars illustration enough to make them comply. <br/>The collection of cars rolled slowly up to another gated barricade, this one opening to let them through until at last, they ground to a halt to await inspection, the heavily armored gate shutting heavily behind the last car. <br/>Men poured out of the surrounding fortifications created from carefully positioned metal shipping containers, some stacked two deep, the occupants of the cars instructed to get out, hands raised, and weapons left behind. <br/><br/>Jamie pushed herself along the back seat to exit just behind Mitch, her hands coming up to rest on her head. They were instantly surrounded and patted down, others holding their weapons on them in case they made any sudden moves. Jamie was patted down roughly by a hard-faced woman, hands pulling at her jacket and almost knocking her over. <br/>“Hey, go easy!”<br/>The woman raised her head and scowled at Jamie before stomping away to report the lack of weapons. Jamie looked around and saw other passengers, her relief that she and Mitch weren't the only ones, other than the security team, to survive Auvegen was a weight lifted off her shoulders. Admittedly it wasn't many, but she spotted Hugh, the computer nerd who helped her several times with connecting up her different bits of equipment, as well as tell her what they did, standing beside a car further down, his hands, like hers, placed on his head. She recognized some of the others having been at several department head meetings, a couple of them women.<br/>A man appeared holding a bullhorn and a box, which he placed on the ground before stepping up on it, lifting the other and speaking in to it. <br/>“Welcome to Saratoga. You get to live another day.” He stared at the newcomers then spoke again. “Your compliance is noted. You will now be checked over by our medical team for any signs of infection or contamination. If you have any symptoms, tell us now and you will be given a quick and merciful death. Conceal anything, and there will be no such mercy. If even one of you is found to carry the contagion, all of you will be quarantined in less than comfortable accommodation until you all turn, or none.” He lowered the bullhorn to give them time to own up. When no one did, he raised it to his mouth again.<br/>“Right. Keep your hands on your heads and proceed in a single line to the medical bay. Any attempt to escape will end in death, any attempt to threaten any of our people will end in death. Got it?” He paused to let the newcomers nod their agreement. “Good. If all goes well you'll only have to stay overnight. If not...you'll stay here. Permanently.” He clicked off the bullhorn and stepped down from his box, marching off and leaving his men to marshall his audience towards the medical teams. <br/>The survivors formed up and started a slow walk, hands on head, towards a gap in the shipping containers, all the time under the close watch of the defenders until they passed through the gap. Then the men were separated from the women, Jamie and the other two women directed towards a shipping container with a white cross crudely painted on the side. Jamie glanced back, meeting Mitch's worried eyes, giving him a small smile before being chivvied back into line and out of sight of the men. <br/>Inside the container, there were no men, only female medical staff and a few heavily armored female guards who watched them closely. Jamie and the others were stipped, given gowns to wear before each disappeared into a curtained cubicle with attending guard. They were questioned, then blood was drawn, swabs taken and a complete physical check for any signs of mutation or transformation. Jamie submitted to the poking and prodding, praying that the end results would clear them all and allow them to go. At the end of the thorough examination, they were ushered to the end of the container into a communal shower, their clothes given back when they were washed and dry once more. When that was complete they were led out of a back entrance towards a series of cages where the women were locked into one together. Jamie had seen no sign of what was happening to the men, only supposing they were going through a similar routine. Any questions she'd asked during the process had been ignored, the medical team only talking softly amongst themselves, not at all to the captives. <br/><br/>Mitch surrendered his glasses before entering the shower room, standing naked under the tepid water, making use of the soap provided, members of his former staff doing the same around him. He and the other scientists, including Hugh, had been separated from the security team to be examined, Mitch having no idea where they were or how they fared. In the boxes that served as lockers were their clothes and belongings for them to put on, all of them hurriedly donning their clothes, glad the medical exam was finished. Now they were being led out of the shipping container towards a series of cages, all of them currently empty. He couldn't see any of the women in them and hoped it meant they had finished before them. He worried about Jamie. It was obvious there was no shortage of women given the quantity stationed at the barricade and being used as guards, but women that looked like Jamie always attracted attention, whether she wanted to or not. The cage door shut firmly behind him, the click of the lock sounding loud. There was little to see in this new compound, just the back walls of various shipping containers hiding everything beyond them from view. Guards were stationed atop and beside the wall, the defenders of Saratoga taking no chances with the newcomers. Given how practiced they seemed, it was a scenario they were all too familiar with and knew the outcome if just one of the human mutants survived to run amuck. His companions stood at his back, surveying their captors and surroundings just as he did. <br/>“Doctor Morgan?” Mitch turned to see the young man they all called if they had a problem with the computer system. <br/>“Hugh? You okay?” he asked. <br/>The young man swallowed and nodded. “I'm fine. How will they know if someone is affected?”<br/>“It will show up in the blood work first, plus they would have checked us for any sign of bite marks or injection points.”<br/>“Oh. Sure. Would they really shoot us if they found any?”<br/>“I have no reason to doubt their intent. They were pretty clear about it.”<br/>Mitch looked at the younger man, noting he was sweating, beads forming on his upper lip and forehead. “You feel alright?”<br/>Hugh managed a small grimace. “Just a bit nauseous. I'm not a good traveler and when I get hyper-anxious I usually barf.”<br/>“Poor you. Try to keep calm. Once they are satisfied with our tests, I'm sure they'll let us go.” Mitch assured him, patting him on the shoulder. Hugh nodded, his adam's apple bobbing, fear evident behind his glasses. <br/>Mitch cursed silently under his breath. <br/><br/>The afternoon was almost over before anyone approached their cage, Jamie standing up from the narrow bench, the only furniture available,</p>
<p>and approaching the chain-link fence.<br/>“How much longer?” Jamie asked. The female guard grinned broadly.<br/>“Not liking our luxury accommodation?”<br/>Jamie shook her head. “You've had enough time to realize none of us are infected. Let us go.”<br/>The woman laughed, but it wasn't because she was amused. “Make yourself comfortable, doll. You and your pals aren't going anywhere tonight.”<br/>The two women incarcerated with Jamie started to protest. <br/>“When are we going to be fed?”<br/>“I need to use the bathroom!”<br/>The guard laughed, hefting the gun in her hands. “Lily-white city critters. You'll be fed when we decide to and that bucket is the toilet.”<br/>Jamie and the other women turned to survey the battered bucket hidden in the corner. They exchanged a glance before the one who needed a toilet grimaced and went to use it. Jamie and the remaining woman followed, standing in front of the other one to give her some privacy. Their guard just watched them and laughed at them. <br/>“The accommodations leave something to be desired...” The woman using the bucket grumbled. <br/>“Jamie Campbell,” Jamie announced. Given the circumstances, it seemed reasonable to break the ice.<br/>“Joan Maxwell, and behind you is Mel Hunter.”<br/>“Are you both in the same department?” Jamie asked, ignoring the sounds behind her.<br/>“Nope. I'm hydroponics, Mel is in breeding.”<br/>“I'm done,” Mel announced, zipping up her jeans. Jamie and Joan stepped forward, returning to the rough benches sitting on the dirt ground, the only furniture in the cage. <br/>Jamie looked up at the darkening clouds, the afternoon sun dipping low in the sky. “I wonder how the men are doing.”<br/>Joan snorted. “I hope it's better than this.”<br/>“Now we know who we are, can any of you tell me what the hell happened back at Auvegen?” Jamie met the eyes of the other women, her eyebrows raised. The others exchanged a look before both shook their heads.<br/>“Sorry. I was hauled out of my bunk and told to hustle. No explanation just a bunch of big guys with guns.”<br/>“Same with me. We only had time to grab a few essentials, plus our back up, before we were rushed down the stairwell to the carpark.”<br/>Both women stared back at Jamie, awaiting her tale. <br/>“I was asleep. Mitch...er...Doctor Morgan came in to wake me and Geoff hustled us down the stairs. I heard some strange noises from the floor above, then we were getting into the cars when the...mutant appeared and attacked the convoy.”<br/>Angela snorted. “Attacked your car, don't you mean. Never came near ours.” The two women exchanged a glance or agreement before turning back to face Jamie. <br/>“I suppose so. I wasn't even sure anyone else had been rescued until we were stopped. I didn't see you two at Albany?”<br/>“Nah.” Mel clarified. “To tell the truth I was willing to cork it forever as long as I didn't have to get out of the car.”<br/>They had been keeping their voices down but the guard heard Mel's comment and let out a snort of derision. “Bloody soft city critters.”<br/>Jamie ignored her. “Did anyone mention where we're supposed to be heading for?”<br/>Mel and Joan stared back at her, the dimming light making their expressions unclear. “Don't you?”<br/>Jamie shook her head. <br/>“But you're riding with Mitch Morgan, aren't you?” Joan asked. “Surely he told you where we're going?”<br/>Again, Jamie shook her head. “No idea. We must be getting close to the border with Canada, surely?”<br/>The guard snorted again, shamelessly eavesdropping. “Another three hours or more, airhead.”<br/>Jamie nodded thoughtfully. Was Canada their ultimate destination? She tried to recall what she could of how Canada had faired with the animal attacks and mutant reports. The further north of the continent, the fewer reports. Probably the weather and landscape contributed to lower numbers of casualties. Was there another Auvegen further north?<br/>Mel pulled her thin cardigan tighter around her shoulders. “I know it's still technically summer, but the nights get cold up here. <br/>The guards snickered. “Silly sluts, you won't have to worry about being cold much longer.”<br/>Mel pulled a face. “What is wrong with you? We're not sluts, we're scientists, you moron.”<br/>The guard scowled and raised her weapon. “You're dog meat, miss Lah-de-dah!”<br/>Jamie held up her hands. “Hey, you're in charge. We didn't mean anything by it.”<br/>Joan and Mel stared at her. “What the hell are you doing?” Mel hissed. <br/>Jamie turned to meet her angry glare. “Trying not to get shot. Does out watchdog seem all that stable to you?” she whispered, the two women casting the guard a quick glance before meeting Jamie's eyes and nodding.<br/>Joan turned to face the guard. “Sorry. Didn't mean to be rude. Just a little hungry and thirsty.”<br/>The woman guard lowered her shoulders, her finger moving off the trigger as she relaxed in the face of their capitulation to her authority. <br/>“That's better.”<br/>The women in the cage settled themselves as best they could to wait. The guard watched them suspiciously for a while then grew bored and turned her back on them, probably wondering how long before she'd be relieved and able to get her dinner.<br/><br/>Geoff stared back at the man standing outside their cage.<br/>“Join you?”<br/>The man in charge shrugged. “Have you any idea what it is like out there?” He indicated the rest of the world with a sweep of his hand. “Everything is out to kill you...and I mean, everything. The mutts are the worst.”<br/>“Mutts?” Geoff queried.<br/>“Humans who have mutated. Mutts. The community here is bigger than you'd suspect and we keep a tight perimeter. Nothing gets in or out without being checked. Compared to what's out there, this is a safe haven. You could do worse than join our militia. We have good resources and it's as safe here as anywhere.”<br/>Geoff glanced at his team, all of which, to a man, stared back. All would follow his lead. Geoff turned back. <br/>“Sorry. We have a job to do, to get our people to their destination where they can add their knowledge to the initiative to reverse what has happened.”<br/>The man chewed over his refusal for a second then laughed, the guards standing either side of him, following suit. <br/>“Reverse it? Fuck that. You obviously have no idea what is going on here? This can't be reversed, you dumb shit. Humanity is gone, destroyed. Nature has turned against us.” His voice had been rising until a tinge of hysteria crept in, then he stopped talking and set his mouth in a grim line. <br/>“Fine. You don't want to survive? You can go. We've taken your guns, ammo, and small arms. We don't need your supplies, so you have those still. We've reduced your fuel to a couple of gallons a car. Should get you close to the border...just.”<br/>“Generous of you,” Geoff retorted, grinding his teeth. But the man hadn't finished. <br/>“You can have all your egg-heads back, except the women and Mitch Morgan. We're keeping them for all the trouble you've put us to.”<br/>“What do you want him for? He's just another scientist!” Geoff argued.<br/>“Think I don't know who Mitch Morgan is?” The man scoffed. “He's not just any old scientist. He's a medical doctor as well, so we're keeping him. As for the women...” He shrugged. “We have enough already as guards, but not enough whores. Find it easier to use outsiders than our own wives and neighbors to take care of the militia.” He made to turn away, indicating for the guards to take up their posts. Geoff called after him.<br/>“Hey. When are you going to let us go?”<br/>“Tomorrow. Dawn.” The man looked up at the sky. “Make yourselves comfortable, it's going to be a long night.”<br/><br/>Mitch watched the man approach, not happy to see the smug expression on his face. The handful of Auvegen staff locked up with him moved forward to see what was going to happen next. A meter from the wire mesh the man stopped and surveyed the male captives.<br/>“I just offered your security team to join us here...” he let the words drop into the silence for a moment. “...but they decided they had a duty to get you scientists to where you were going, so we're letting you go at dawn.”<br/>He waited while the men in the cage talked excitedly among themselves.<br/>“But not you.” He pointed directly at Mitch. The chatter stopped abruptly. <br/>“Why not me?” Mitch asked, ignoring his heart squeezing in his chest. <br/>The man drew closer and pointed a grimy finger at him. “You're Mitch Morgan. We're keeping you.”<br/>Mitch met his narrowed gaze without a flicker of reaction. “Now why would you want to do that? I'm no more important than anyone else on the team.”<br/>The man laughed, along with a couple of the guards beside him. “We know exactly who you are, and what you can do for us. We need a doctor.”<br/>Mitch sighed. “Of course. But you've got me wrong. I'm not a qualified doctor.”<br/>The man reached behind him and brought out a battered copy of a popular scientific magazine. On the glossy cover was a picture of Mitch, taken by Jamie, sitting behind his desk looking straight at the camera. <br/>“Ah,” Mitch muttered. The man was flipping through the pages, most of them tatty and well-thumbed. He reached the article and drew a grubby tip on a finger over the words, before stabbing at a particular part. <br/>“It says here that you did at least two years of your medical residency before you packed it in and change to study...veteri...vetarin...”<br/>“Veterinary Pathology. Yeah, so what? Doesn't make me a doctor.”<br/>“Says you got the Presidential Medal and you have a Ph.D. You're a doctor of veterinary medicine...that makes you the most highly qualified person in all of the wider state area.”<br/>Mitch hung his head. “Still doesn't make me a medical doctor.”<br/>The man pushed his face closer to the wire. “But it does make you the best we've got. You're staying right here, Doctor Morgan.” The man leaned back to address the others. “Make yourselves comfortable, you'll be up before daylight.” He waved the guards forward. Three of the guards entered the cage and grabbed Mitch by his upper arms, dragging him out and away from the rest of the Auvegen survivors. Mitch didn't fight</p>
<p>them, he was just trying to think ahead of how he was going to get out of the mess he was in. And what the fuck was happening to Jamie?<br/><br/>It was dark before the women were finally released into the compound, shepherded towards a communal eating area and pushed onto benches at the end of one of the tables, their surly female guard gone to find her own meal, and a thickset male now watching their every move. Bowls were set in front of them and a thick stew ladled into them, a platter in the center of the long wooden trestle heaped with coarse-looking bread. A plastic jug with three mugs was plonked down, the three women quickly filling their mugs and downing the water to slake their raging thirsts. Jamie tried to spot any others from the Auvegen team but there were too many people moving around the area, the intermittent lighting making it hard to see faces other than in shadow. <br/>“Do you see anyone we know?” Mel asked, pitching her voice low.<br/>Jamie shook her head, picking up her spoon to start eating the stew. It was hot and tasty, as long as one didn't inspect the contents too closely. <br/>She had hoped to at least see, even from a distance, the other members of their convoy, but not seeing anyone was starting to worry her. To calm her nerves, she looked at the milling populace taking their evening meal. There was a good ratio of men and women, most of them not wearing any body armor or carrying any weapons. If it wasn't for the guns being held by the guards stationed around the space, you'd almost think they were just at a town bakeout for some local celebration, only there was no music and now she noticed it, no laughter or chatter as you would expect from so many people. <br/>“Not exactly a cheery bunch, are they?” said Joan, picking apart a hunk of the bread. “I haven't seen a smile or heard a laugh since we got here.”<br/>Jamie turned her head. “Me neither. Maybe it's something about the noise...they keep it down so as not to attract any attention?”<br/>“Attention from what?” asked Mel.<br/>“From the Mutts.”<br/>The women all jerked in surprise at the deep voice. The man who owned it cast a leering look over the women, his dark eyes settling on Jamie the longest. “Enjoying your meal, ladies?”<br/>“Where are the others?” Jamie asked, pushing her empty bowl away. “Why aren't we eating with them?”<br/>The man settled on the bench seat, sitting astride so they had to turn to look at him. “They'll all be gone in the morning and you no longer have to think about them.” He leaned forward, forcing Jamie to lean back, bumping into Joan. <br/>“We're keeping you.” He glanced at each woman in turn, emphasizing his menacing statement. <br/>“What do you mean, 'you're keeping us'?” said Mel. She made to rise up off the bench. “We don't want to stay here.” A meaty hand on her shoulder forced her to sit down again.<br/>“Not your decision anymore,” the man told them. “We'll spare you tonight so you can become accustomed to...your regular duties.” He got to his feet and gave them a sloppy salute. “Sleep well, ladies. Enjoy the peace and quiet because after tonight, you'll be so busy you'll be begging for rest.” He swept them all with a horrible leer, his grin looking more like a predator about to bite. The women stared back at him, not liking what his parting words meant. <br/>“What the fuck was that about?” Joan hissed, breathing heavily.<br/>“What did he mean – spare us tonight? What are we going to be doing?” Mel asked, her eyes betraying her fear. <br/>Jamie stared after the horrible man, her own fear rising as she chewed over his thinly veiled threats. “I don't know, I really don't know.”<br/><br/>Mitch stared around the room and tried to make a mental itinerary of its contents. He was standing in what had been the local medical clinic. A guard dogged his steps and watched his every move. It was now dark outside, Mitch surprised to find the electricity working fine, illuminating the empty clinic with a cold light. The whole place just looked like the staff had upped and left an hour ago leaving no mess or muddle, just nobody in residence. The windows were covered by thick mesh both inside and out, the doors the same. Plants had been removed from the reception as were all the magazines and toy boxes usually available to entertain waiting patients. Further inside the building, he found consulting cubicles with beds and computer stations, none of the screens showing anything. There was an x-ray room, dispensary, and even a small surgical suite, all of them neat and tidy, with no sign of chaos or looting. At the very back of the building was a large garage holding an ambulance, the roller door shut, a gurney sitting beside the loading ramp awaiting a body. The last room next to the garage was a small pathology lab with half a dozen freezers, none of them containing any victims as yet. <br/>Mitch turned to the guard. “Where is everybody?” he quipped. The guard regarded him impassively and didn't respond. Mitch raised an eyebrow at the man, but he was ignored. “Is this where I'm supposed to stay?” he asked. The guard grunted and indicated with his gun for Mitch to start back through the building. Mitch walked back as far as the reception, then the guard waved him forward towards a door that led into an office. Inside was a desk, computer station, examination bed, and a couch. The guard indicated the couch. “You'll sleep here. Bathroom is through there. Get used to it.” Mitch checked and found the windows as securely covered as all the others, his avenues for escape severely limited. <br/>“Do I get a meal before I have to bunk down?” Mitch asked, staring up at the man who towered over his six-foot-one with ease. <br/>The guard grunted again. “It's coming.”<br/>“So's the Apocolypse,” Mitch muttered to himself. He knew it was probably futile, but he had to ask. “Do you know what happened to the women that were with us? Are they okay?”<br/>To his surprise, the guard bared his teeth in a grim smile. “Brothel.” He stated. “I get to have my turn, while they're still fresh, in two days' time. I like the redhead the best.”<br/>Mitch blanched, then his eyes narrowed, his tightly held temper breaking loose, his fist hitting the man squarely on the jaw, the follow-through knocking the guard to the floor. Mitch had little time to enjoy his success before the guard was back on his feet, his gun nearly touching Mitch's nose.<br/>“Don't do that again, Doctor. I've orders to keep you in one piece but they didn't specify which piece.”<br/>Mitch consciously relaxed his fists while the guard dabbed at his streaming nose to mop up the blood, the gun as steady as a rock. A minute later and the man stepped back, walking backward out of the doctor's office to take up a post near the front entrance. <br/>Mitch retired back into the room and rubbed at his sore knuckles. The news was worse than he'd expected. His beautiful Jamie was going to be used in the most appalling way, available for anyone to rape and manhandle, prey to any man who wanted her. Not only Jamie but all the women they'd rescued from Auvegen only to fall prey to the militia of Saratoga Springs. He paced the office, his blood simmering as he tried to find a way to get them all away, out of the hands of their captors, and before the women were subjected to sexual assault. A knock sounded at the front door of the clinic, but he ignored it, his brain buzzing with escape plans, creating and discarding them in equal measure. The guard appeared in the doorway.<br/>“Foods arrived.” He announced. Mitch stopped his pacing and nearly snapped back that he was no longer hungry, but common sense spurred him to consider that he'd be no damn use to Jamie or the others if he wasn't prepared to take any opportunity sent his way.<br/>“Fine. I'll come and get it.” He may not get a chance tonight, his goalers were likely to keep a sharp eye on him and expect him to try something. <br/>Instead, he picked up the tray and carried it back to the office, shutting the door behind him. With the news of Jamie's fate, he had lost his appetite but doggedly chewed his way through the stew and bread, chugging down the bitter ale he'd been given to drink and leaving nothing on his plate but crumbs. <br/>Leaving the tray by the door he went over to the bookcase by the desk and perused the titles, pulling out a number of medical journals to read before the lights went out. When they eventually did, he settled on the couch to sleep, sending thoughts to Jamie in his mind, sending her the strength to survive what was to come until he could find a way to rescue them all. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><strong>WARNING</strong> – mention of sexual subjugation. No explicit details, no actual mention of rape, but is implied, plus details of physical assault. I have tried not to treat the situation glibly and apologize if anyone thinks I've done so.</p>
<p>X x x x<br/><br/>Logan stared in disbelief at the woman with red hair being escorted towards the house designated as the brothel. How the all-fecking-hells had Jamie Campbell ended up in Saratoga Springs? He hefted the automatic he held and started to saunter towards the building in an attempt to find out more. Up ahead the trio of women were approaching the building, their accompanying guards grabbing each of them by the arms to prevent them bolting at the last minute. Logan grimaced, seeing them struggle but unable to prevent the guards hauling them into the house, the door shutting forcibly behind them. There was nothing he could do to help them now, but he could find out more of where they came from, and how they came to be in the town. It was nearly the end of his shift so he approached his team leader, handing in his gun and body armor to be used by the next one on for the night. While he did so he casually mentioned the women and asked about them.<br/>“You'll have to wait your turn,” he was told.<br/>“I've been on town patrol all day,” Logan pushed. “Where have they come from?”<br/>“Don't know, don't care.” The man looked up and saw the expression on Logan's face. “They probably came with that new lot this afternoon. Bunch of security guards escorting a load of brainiacs to God-knows-where.” The man leaned forward, warming to his story. “Apparently one of them is a doctor, so he and the women are staying.”<br/>Logan looked suitably impressed. “A doctor? That's good news and it's only days since we lost the last one, so great timing!”<br/>His team leader grinned in agreement. “Ain't that the truth. Now fuck off and leave me alone.”<br/>Logan did as asked, checking the roster sheet for the next day before heading for the commissary to get his evening meal. The streets were well lit, anyone not involved with domestic duties posted as guards on the roof of every building or manning the stockade walls. Spotlights mounted at strategic spots could be swung into action and covered every inch of the border wall. Spotters with binoculars followed the beams of light to see if anything was visible attempting to breach the perimeter, ready to shout out if anything moved. <br/>Finding himself a table he sat down and accepted a bowl of stew from one of the servers. Meals could be supplied at any time of the day or night to coincide with the rotating shifts of guards and workers. Saratoga was a twenty-four-hour operation with few concessions or breaks, a necessity if they were to survive. The addition of new women to the whore house would put a spring in some of the men's strides, but he didn't envy the women given some of the men were not entirely civilized or nice in their manners to their fellow guards, let alone defenseless women. Logan winced as his tooth twinged on a bit of bone in the thick mush of vegetables and meat. If they had a doctor back in town, maybe he'd go and see if there was anything to be done about his bloody tooth. He'd go and see him in the morning, find out who he was, how Jamie had come to be with him, and if he could help the women somehow, particularly his ex - Jamie Campbell. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>The convoy was loaded up and directed out of the compound and past the metal barrier on the north side of the overpass. It was still dark but the whole area was lit up like daylight, the watchful militia keeping their guns trained on the cars and their occupants until they were lost to the distance, red rear lights disappearing around a curve in the highway. In the lead car, Geoff Black was already making plans to return and rescue the missing members of the Auvegen survivors. They needed to re-arm and re-equip the team before returning to Saratoga Springs to effect said rescue. How long that would take, he didn't know, but if their luck held and their plan was well executed, the rescue would take place in a little over a week. He hoped those left behind were able to remain alive until then.<br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>Jamie paced the small bedroom like a caged tiger, her bare feet scuffing across the thick carpet, her skimpy outfit swishing around her thighs with the force of her movements. Outside, the light was starting to dim as the sun set on their first day in the brothel. Jamie had fought tooth and claw, when unable to dislodge her restraints she'd tried to reason her way, talking then hectoring her captors until they gagged her to shut her up. She hadn't seen Joan or Mel since entering the house, the women separated to different rooms to accept their fate. When the madam of the house had finished informing them of their expected duties, Jamie had been dragged upstairs to be washed, her original clothes removed, and replaced by others more suited to her position. The male guards had been replaced with unforgiving female guards who were immune to any pleading or arguing from their charges, the added threat of having a tazer applied keeping Jamie from physically assaulting anyone who came close enough. <br/>Fear kept her moving, the soft pad of her feet on the lush carpet a counterpoint to the restless turmoil of her thoughts. If the madam was to be believed, the Auvegen convoy was long gone and Mitch along with them. She both hoped and dreaded that they would come back to try and free Jamie and the other women, but that wouldn't be happening in time to rescue before her 'shift' started in an hour or so. <br/>The madam, a woman in her forties with dyed hair and appalling taste in clothes, had made it very clear that there was no hope of leaving the house other than under guard, and that likely not often. Their lives would revolve around servicing whatever man appeared at the door of their room, in whatever way that man wanted to be serviced. They no longer even had their own names. Jamie had been renamed Angel, a name that made her want to lash out and pummel someone for its inanity. She had no idea what Joan and Mel were now known as, probably names just as ridiculous as hers. Sex held no terrors for her and it was not as if she was given a choice, so she tried not to let the horror of her situation send her crazy. She had read that victims of sexual assault somehow managed to blank their minds and think themselves elsewhere while their bodies suffered whatever was done to them. Jamie didn't know if this was true, but it offered a crumb of hope that she'd survive whatever came with her sanity intact. Hope was all she did have. Outside the meshed window, the sun was setting, announcing that soon her servitude would begin. Gritting her teeth she turned her back on the window and went to the bed to await the first man through her door. She mourned in her heart for the other women, hoping they managed to survive the night, and she mourned not to have had a chance to say goodbye to Mitch. It was only now, on the brink of disaster that she admitted to herself that she loved him.<br/><br/>A knock at her door dragged her thoughts away from Mitch. Being careful to let none of her fears show on her face, she walked to the door and opened it.<br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>Mitch was in one of the cubicles dressing a deep cut on a man's arm. He was concentrating on the stitches, his patient looking on with interest, his arm numb, at the neat row of thread holding his skin together. This was Mitch's sixth patient of the morning, none of the injuries life-threatening and hardly a tax on his knowledge, but he treated them all the same and ignored any that got to nosy, peppering him with questions about his life before. In the back of his mind, he worried ceaselessly about Jamie and what was happening to her. He ground his teeth at his own helplessness to do anything about either of their situations, keeping his face blank of all emotions to anyone watching him.<br/>“There. I'm finished. Keep the bandage on, don't get it wet and come back in a few days. If you see any signs of seepage or swelling or it starts to smell bad, come back immediately.”<br/>The man nodded, waiting for Mitch to move back before rolling down his sleeve to cover the bandage. Without a word, the man left and Mitch started to tidy up the room. That done, he walked back to reception to meet his next patient. A young man with a mop of blond hair sat on the edge of one of the chairs and he looked up when Mitch entered. Getting to his feet he approached. <br/>“I know you're a doctor, but can you help with teeth as well?”<br/>Mitch frowned. “Depends on what needs doing? Come with me.”<br/>The young man followed him to one of the cubicles. Mitch waved him forward to take a seat on one of the chairs. Pulling over a form, Mitch sat down, pen poised to take down his details. <br/>“Name, date of birth and what exactly is the problem”<br/>Logan supplied him with the details, eyeing the man before him with curiosity. “How did Jamie Campbell end up here?”<br/>Mitch jerked as if stung, looking up to stare at the young man. “Why do you want to know?”<br/>Logan shrugged. “I used to know her, back in New York. We were a couple, for a while, then she jacked it in. Never knew who she took up with after me.” He paused, noting the tension in the doctor's neck, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Mitch relaxed his grip on the pen before he spoke. <br/>“I asked her to marry me,” Mitch stated, deciding to trust the younger man and hope he might be an ally. “She didn't say yes.”<br/>Logan nodded, eyeing him with a new perspective. “Smart woman.”<br/>Mitch let his lips pull up into a small smile. “That's Jamie.”<br/>A silence fell between them, both acutely aware of where Jamie was now and what she was being subjected too. <br/>Logan leaned forward. “Any plans to rescue her?” he asked quietly. <br/>Mitch sat back in his chair. “Some. None.”<br/>Logan mirrored him and sat back, his body relaxed, hands resting on his thighs. “Yeah, me too.”<br/>Mitch raised a dark eyebrow. “How long have you been here?”<br/>Logan shrugged. “Couple of months. I'm nobody important here, but my police training came in handy with handling a gun, so I signed on as a guard.”<br/>“You know your way around the compound? Its strengths and weaknesses?” Mitch asked, his gaze intent. <br/>Logan nodded. “I know enough. It won't be easy, or quick.”<br/>“How bad is this tooth of yours?” Mitch asked, looking down at his notes. “If it's bad it might need several visits to get it fixed.”<br/>Logan grinned. “I was thinking the same thing. You'll need to write me a note for the return visits and why they are necessary, to give me the excuse to come back.”<br/>“Easily done. You've seen Jamie?” Mitch asked, his fingers fiddling with the pen.<br/>Logan nodded again. “Just briefly. I'm too far down the pecking order to warrant a night at the brothel, at least not for some time. How are you coping with that?”<br/>Mitch put down the pen and dry washed his face after removing his glasses. “It's been hell.”<br/>“Yeah, copy that. Might need to ask for something to deal with sleepless nights.”<br/>Mitch snorted. “Get in the queue.” He put his glasses back on and turned to face Logan. “There's nothing more I can do right now, so let's look at that tooth. Might as well make myself useful while you're here.”<br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>Jamie held the cool cloth against her cheek to ease the tender flesh that still smarted from the slap. It was her third night but her first backhand. Her client had been too eager, reaching his climax after a couple of thrusts, much to her relief. His fingers were rough and she was sure to have bruises by the morning from his pinching and twisting. She didn't think her feelings showed, but he'd felt frustrated at having spent himself so soon, his need to cover up his own failure resulting in him blaming her and hitting her face with the back of his meaty fist, sending her flying off the bed. He'd left soon after, still blaming her before slamming the door behind him. <br/>Usually, her clients stayed for their allotted hour, but this one was gone after just ten minutes, leaving her the rest of the hour to herself. After cleaning herself up, she ran a bowl of cold water and used a cloth to take the swelling in her cheek down and soothe the impact site. <br/>It would seem that her company was reserved for those higher up the ranks than the ordinary guards, but rank did not necessarily mean the men were any less brutish or rough or capable of performing. For the most part, the men were just that – men. It was just fucking. If she took no pleasure in it, then all the better. The men certainly didn't treat her as if they had any emotional attachment to her, only regarded her as a pair of tits and a nice body to fuck. None of them wanted anything special or out of the ordinary and she was glad of that. She simply had to put up with the grunting and sweating, poking and prodding until it was over and they were gone. In her mind, she was creating several story ideas for future novels, her participation in the aforesaid fucking only requiring her to spread her legs and make appropriate noises to encourage them to finish as soon as possible. Jamie wondered sometimes, as she stared up at the ceiling if she'd missed her calling. What she did for and with theses unknown and, in her view, faceless men was as distant from her relationship with Mitch as the Earth from the Moon. When they were done and gone, she could clean herself up with soap and water and be all new again, her body merely a vessel, her mind and emotions entirely untouched – she just had to concentrate. That was, until her last client. She peered into the small mirror above the sink and traced the imprint of his fingers against her skin. It smarted, but it would fade in time. Jamie stared past the mirror to the window beyond, looking out onto the township beyond her prison, the lights flickering briefly above her head and out among the streetlamps. “Someone must have tripped over a wire,” she muttered to herself in amusement a second before the lights went out and stayed out. Plunged into darkness, she could only find the edge of the bed and sit down to await the end of the blackout. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>They had been ejected back onto the eye eighty-seven, so kept to the highway until they'd traveled just far enough to be out of sight of the fortified town. They took the first major off-ramp and immediately found a strip of shops and service business starting with a gas station. This close to Saratoga Springs, it was probably used by the militia so they didn't hang around after filling up the vehicles. The minimart behind the station replenished some of their supplies but there were no guns or ammunition, those had been cleared out already. Returning along route nine they crossed over the interstate and started to head back towards Saratoga Springs, stopping at Wilton to start to plan their next move. <br/>Geoff surveyed the buildings and countryside, finding it worryingly empty of people and stock. He also worried about their water supply, whether the town drinking water was compromised as it was in New York. The mutts, as the militia called them, had obviously found their way north, or been spawned in the local area, but was that from contact with animals or birds, or from the water itself. At Wilton they found an abandoned state police base, making short work of breaking in and appropriating anything and everything they could lay their hands on. While his team searched the building, Geoff gathered up local maps and intel to augment his own. That done, they slowly cruised the local roads looking for somewhere defensible to hole up and come up with a plan. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>Mitch was finally allowed to step outside the clinic on the fifth day since their capture. He had been kept busy seeing to the usual collection of minor injuries and ailments you'd expect in a smallish sized settlement, but he had no idea exactly how many people were contained within the barricade walls. It became clear that anyone that came to him for aid was instructed not to give him any information above their name and age, except for the young man with the dodgy tooth – Logan. After four days and nights, he knew no more about anything than he had when he first arrived. It was only when he ran out of some essential medicines that he asked to be allowed to restock. When he was told to make a list, he argued that he needed to see what was available as not all medicines were viable after a certain time on the shelf and he'd need to check expiry dates and possible alternatives. His answer had come just this morning, allowing him to be escorted to the closest pharmacy, on foot, to make his selection from what was left. He would be escorted there by two guards to act as security and carry what he needed back to the clinic. Mitch didn't care if they wanted to send a platoon, he just wanted to get out and see the brothel, to start to plan for a rescue and escape. He didn't hold out much hope that he'd actually see Jamie, only see for himself where she was being kept. <br/>Gathering up his list of what he needed to look for, he stepped out of the clinic and started to walk along the footpath, shadowed by his armed guards. From the description Logan had supplied, Mitch could easily recognize the house employed as the brothel. He slowed his pace so that he could take in the number of windows and doors or any evidence of weakness, keeping his observations casual to not alert his watchdogs of what he was doing. People milled around him, going about whatever it was they were doing, but that also made him stand out, being the only one with accompanying armed guards. As he passed the house he looked up at the windows, hoping and not hoping to catch a glimpse of the occupants. He saw nothing and nobody behind the net curtains screening the windows of the ground or first floor, his hopes sinking as he trudged past. <br/><br/>Jamie pressed her hands against the mesh covering the window, staring down into the street at the man being escorted past the house. He stood out because of the armed guards, the people parting like water around them. The man cast glancing up at the house she was in, sunlight flashing off his glasses as he scanned the windows he could see. <br/>She wanted to scream and bang on the glass to let him know she was there, that she saw him, anything to indicate to him she was there, but that would only attract the wrong sort of attention from inside the house and she knew better than that. Jamie watched hungrily as Mitch passed on by, her euphoria in seeing him tempered by the helplessness of both their situations. He was obviously a captive of the militia as well, for what purpose she could only guess at. If they knew who he was, then they possibly knew also that he had medical training. If they did, he could be held for that reason. As he went past the house, she pressed herself to the mesh to watch him until he passed beyond her range of vision. If he passed by on his way back, she might have a chance to signal him. With that in mind, she turned to search the room for something to use. <br/><br/>Mitch searched the ransacked pharmacy and filled a bag with what he could find to use at the clinic. That done, he started the walk back to the medical center, passing the brothel once more. He looked up at the house, searching the windows, this time to see something he'd not noticed on the trip out. He squinted to make out the sign better, and his heart started to hammer in his chest. At one of the windows was a square of white fabric being held up against the glass. On it was a crudely drawn a capital 'J' then a straight line followed by a capital 'M'. Both letters were a little wobbly but his heart filled with hope. Before he passed from sight the fabric was removed and he saw a small white hand press against the glass. She was there, in that room and she'd seen him. Mitch struggled to keep the elation off his face as he trudged back to the clinic, his thoughts a jumbled mess of differing escape plans mixed with rage that she was shut up and being subjected to sexual slavery. Back inside the medical center he went to his office and shut the door. Sitting down behind his desk he rested his elbows on the desktop, removed his glasses, and covered his face. She was alive, she had seen him and found a way to let him know. He felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. That small communication didn't change their situation, didn't change a damn thing, but it would give her hope that she wasn't abandoned, wasn't forgotten, and left to suffer alone. He tamped down the anger that tried to rise, fighting hard to beat it back. It wasn't a time to let emotions rule, he had to find a way to get them out of Saratoga. Logan would be coming back later in the day so they'd have to see what could be done then. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>It was after midnight when the town was attacked. A huge explosion rent the quiet of the night, the fireball lighting up the streets, people running back and forth while the spotlights were repositioned to zero in on the source of the blast. When the smoke started to clear there was a hole twenty feet wide in the barricade. An unearthly howling started up, the nose terrifying in the darkness. Guns started to spit empty cases as all available firepower was concentrated on the area of the explosion. <br/><br/>Jamie jerked awake, her movements making her aches and pains all the more evident. Flashes of light, like a violent lightning storm, penetrated her room and cast strange shadows over everything. Easing herself off the bed she shuffled to the window to stare out at the road below. In the distance, she could see the source of the noise and lights, a smoke plume visible even in the darkness, several spotlights swallowed by the choking dust cloud obscuring everything. Men with guns were already firing, at what she didn't know or see. The sound just adding to the general pandemonium and chaos surrounding the brothel. Despite all that, she still heard the click of a key locking her door, light appearing fleetingly under the door then moving on. Possibly it was a diversionary tactic by Geoff Black and his security team to free her and the others. Whatever it was, there was nothing she could do to get out of the room with the windows sealed and the door locked. With nothing to see except rampant hysteria from her window, she made her way slowly back to the bed. This time it wasn't just her face that bore the brunt of her recent client. She would certainly be showing several colorful bruises come the morning. As she lay down, she wondered if she played up her injuries they'd allow Mitch to come and attend to her.<br/><br/>Mitch, like Jamie, was now locked into the clinic since shortly after the explosion ripped apart the night. His guard had been called away but not until the clinic had been secured with Mitch inside. Frustrated, he watched the mayhem from one of the front windows, seeing little order or competent leadership in the mob of people running back and forth. The rattle of gunfire and more pops of explosions made him beat his fist impotently against the window frame. <br/><br/>Geoff looked up in surprise to see and hear the explosion destroy a portion of the barricade. He didn't know who or why, but it would help to cover their own covert operation to infiltrate the town. It would also serve to keep the militia busy. Signaling to his team, they ran across the shadowy open ground, heading for another area of the defensive fencing. <br/><br/>Jamie awoke when someone leaned over with a light to peer at her face. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes but was instantly distracted when a needle was pushed into her thigh, the liquid cold as it was pumped into her veins. <br/>“What the fuck?” she managed to get out before her vision reduced to a tunnel and blackness claimed her. <br/><br/>Mitch was pacing up and down the corridor, trying to work off some of his nervous energy. More explosions had been heard, most more distant than the first as if to draw the sentries away from the center of town. Flames were now spreading from the first bombing, Mitch praying that Jamie was still safe at the brothel. A sound from the back of the clinic drew his attention and he froze, listening hard in case it was repeated. Instead, he heard the patter of muffled feet before a black-clad figure appeared from the door to the garage, bandana covering the lower part of the face, black face paint covering the gap between the bridge of the nose and the helmet edge. Mitch put his hands up. “Can I help you?”</p>
<p>The lead insurgent stopped dead and straightened up from his crouch.<br/>“Good to see you too, Mitch.” The slightly accented voice was the giveaway. Mitch lurching forward to meet the man halfway.<br/>“Thank, God. Is all that your doing?” Mitch waved a hand to what was going on outside. Geoff shook his head. <br/>“A lucky coincidence, although it was in one of the plans.”<br/>Mitch suddenly gripped his friend's arm. “Jamie and the other women are in the brothel house.” Mitch pulled him over to the window. “Second floor, third window facing the road of that house over there.”<br/>Geoff took in the details then pulled back so he wasn't spotted from the outside. <br/>“Turn out all the lights in here except the one for wherever you sleep. We'll meet you in the back.”<br/>Mitch did as his security chief said, shutting off the lights except for his office, making it look as if he was in there. Then he made his way to the back of the clinic and met the small team by the roller door. Together, they exited through the previously locked side door and crept to the back of the medical center, keeping to the shadows. With all the spotlights concentrated on the other side of town, it was relatively easy to negotiate the back of the shops and work their way towards the brothel house. Getting across the road and to the house itself would be the tricky bit. <br/><br/>Logan carried Jamie's insensible body towards the culvert, grunting a little as he had to wait in the deepest shadow to allow people to rush past his hiding place before carrying on. It had been a relatively simple matter to climb the rear fire escape and access the second floor with all that was going on further along the barricade. The bolt cutters allowed him to access one of the windows and get inside, the occupant of the room not stirring when he approached the bed. It wasn't who he was looking for, but whoever she was didn't stir even with all the inevitable noise of his breaking through the wire mesh. Curious he shook the woman's arm but she still didn't rouse, even after a really good shake. It appeared that she was drugged, possibly to prevent hysteria with all that was going on outside, but whatever the reason it would make his job that much harder. He easily negotiated the room door and crept towards the front of the house to find Jamie's room. Careless talk and keen hearing had gleaned the information from a boasting officer who had spent the night with her, his effusive description of the woman the guard had fucked clearly describing Jamie and giving him, Logan, the location of her room. The house was quiet, all the clients gone to attend the ruckus in the town, the house madam probably downstairs watching from the windows. With her charges all drugged there was no need to have the usual complement of guards, all of whom were now out on the street or at the barricade. Finding the right door, he turned the key left in the lock and entered the room. Given the suddenness of the attack, he hadn't had time to let Mitch know what he was going to do, the surprise diversion too good to pass up. Logan checked what was happening outside before approaching the bed. Jamie, like the other woman, was insensible, her face shadowed in the gloom of the bedroom. Logan quickly gathered her up and slung her over his shoulder and left, careful to lock the door behind him to allay suspicions and give him time. Returning to the first room he left that the way he'd come in, pushing back the mesh into place to again hide his entrance and exit. It was fortunate that the night was not cold as Jamie was only wearing a wisp of clothing and the bed had only had a thin coverlet to wrap her in. Once he was on the ground he moved as quickly as he could to the culvert and was in the process of tying a rope around Jamie in preparation of hauling her body behind him when a shadow loomed out of the night, gun pointed at his head. <br/>“Just what the fuck do you think you're doing? Laddie?”<br/>Logan carefully raised his hands and made to rise from being crouched over Jamie's body. The guard was one he knew and he swallowed hard. This was going to hurt. <br/><br/>Mitch and the security team had found a way to cross the street, praying their luck held as they ducked down the narrow access between the brothel and the house next door. Mitch had briefed Geoff of what he knew in regards Jamie's location and they now looked for a way to enter the house. Even as they surveyed the windows a scuffle further ahead drew their attention. The sound of someone beating on somebody else was close, Geoff waving everyone to stay put while he investigated. Mitch fidgeted as he waited for him to return, the sounds up ahead stopping a few seconds later. A low whistle from Geoff drew the team forward to find the security chief bend over a heavily armored guard, the man out cold.<br/>“Is he dead?” Mitch asked, nudging the man.<br/>“ Just sleeping,” Geoff whispered harshly. “There's another man over here.”<br/>Mitch moved to see who else had been involved. “That's Logan!”<br/>“Logan?”<br/>“He came to my clinic, he saw Jamie being taken into the brothel. We were coming up with a plan to rescue her and the other women...”<br/>One of the team, who were all positioned to defend while their leader assessed, called softly. “There's a body here.”<br/>Mitch and Geoff approached, the team member pulling back the fabric covering the body's face.<br/>“Jamie!” Mitch crouched down to better see in the shadowed gloom, but the hair was unmistakable. “Oh, my God.”<br/>“Is she breathing?” Geoff asked. <br/>“Yes. She's alive, just unconscious.” Mitch glanced back at the younger man starting to come around behind them. “Logan must have been trying to escape with her.”<br/>“Possibly through this culvert. It's just wide enough for a slender man to get through. Looks like he intended to drag her through behind him going by the rope.”<br/>As if they didn't have enough problems, a loud growl, enhanced by the pipe, issued from the other end making the hair stand up on everyone's neck. <br/>“What the fuck?” Geoff approached the culvert and peered into the darkness, seeing nothing but unable to prevent a feeling of dread creeping over him. “We need to find a way to block this!”<br/>A large rock was nearby, almost the diameter of the pipe itself, possibly meant to block it but currently off to the side. Together, they moved it back to the mouth of the drainpipe and pushed it inside, the rock scraping against the metal sides, screeching horribly. Only when it was locked tight did they pull back, Mitch going to Jamie and picking her up in his arms. Logan was groaning quietly, pulled to his feet by one of the team to stand, albeit a bit wobbly, but at least upright. He found himself surrounded by black-clad figures, their guns raised. Logan instantly raised his hands in surrender.<br/>“Hey, friend not foe!”<br/>Mitch stepped forward, Jamie in his arms. “What the hell did you give her?”<br/>Logan tried to step back from the fury in Mitch's voice. “Hey, she was like that when I found her. All the women had been drugged, I don't know with what. Probably to keep them quiet and not freak out with all this going on.” He waved to the bedlam out in the town. <br/>Mitch glanced down at the woman in his arms. “I'll forgive you for trying to escape with her, but now we need to get out of here. Can we trust you?”<br/>Logan nodded rapidly, his aching head forgotten for a moment. “Of course.”<br/>Geoff stepped forward. “What about the other women? To we try and get them?”<br/>Mitch turned to stare at Logan. “Could you find them, in there?” <br/>Logan shrugged. “I only knew what room Jamie was in from picking up snippets of talk from those that had used her. I'm sorry, I didn't hear anything about the others.”<br/>Mitch shifted Jamie in his arm, her head lolling against his shoulder. Bitterness welled up, hot and sour on his tongue, his guilt over not being able to protect her competing with the fear that if they didn't leave they'd be recaptured. “How much longer can we stay here and not get caught?”<br/>Geoff glanced down before raising his head to meet Mitch's shadowed gaze. “We should have been gone by now. Whatever is attacking this town won't be any better for us than the militia. We need to go now.”<br/>A loud bang sounded nearby, followed by more gunfire, flames lighting up the night, the flickering light almost reaching where they crouched.<br/>“We don't have a choice, even if we knew where they were, we don't have the time.”<br/>Geoff nodded, accepting his decision despite it consigning the two other women to an uncertain and unpleasant future. More gunfire, this time very close by spurred them to move. “Keep close and don't fall back!” Geoff instructed them, signaling for his team members to lead off, weaving a way behind the shops and houses to where they'd come over the barricade.<br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><strong>WARNING</strong> – some mention of the results of sexual assault and physical abuse.</p>
<p><br/><br/>By some miracle they weren't discovered, making it over the barricade without a shot fired by them or at them. Jamie was lowered using the rope, the men taking turns to carry her as they melted into the labyrinth of abandoned houses and overgrown properties beyond the area cleared to create a firing zone by the militia. The battle raged on behind them, tongues of flame flaring up into the sky, screams and strange roars tearing through the sounds of automatic weapons. They hadn't gone far when they faced their own obstacle. Blocking their way forward was a pack of animals that were hard to distinguish in the uncertain light, as if they were able to deflect the torchlight of the security team, avoiding exposing them directly to discovery. The creatures kept up a continuous growling sound combined with an unusual rattling, reminiscent of a snake's tail.<br/>Slowly, the security team formed a defensive circle with their backs to the brick wall of a house, guns pointed at the glowing eyes which were all they could see. <br/>“What are they?” Logan asked, standing beside Mitch who was cradling Jamie. “Wolves?”<br/>Mitch had his back hard up against the bricks, Jamie wrapped in his arms as he lowered them both to crouch on the ground to allow the security team freedom of movement. “Not wolves. Possibly some sort of hybrid combination.”<br/>Logan hissed back. “Hybrid?”<br/>Mitch kept his focus on the view he had beyond the men standing in front of him. “Some combination of animal mutated by the spore.”<br/>Logan looked confused. “Spore?”<br/>Mitch didn't spare him a glance. “In the water. Eventually, it will infect everyone and everything unless the water is put through a process to filter out of the organisms.”<br/>Logan shook his head. Having little except the broadest understanding of scientific matters, he just had more questions. “Is there a way?”<br/>Mitch finally cast a glance his way. “If we get out of this, I'll give you chapter and verse, but right now is not the time.”<br/>One of the creatures lurched forward, the guns instantly finding their target and bringing it down. Another attempted a run at the defenders and was similarly disposed of. The remainder had learned what they needed to know and loped off, not interested in such heavily armed prey. There were easier meals to find among the deserted houses. <br/>“Have they gone?” Logan couldn't resist asking. <br/>The men remained as they were, torches searching the ground and guns trained on the shadows. After a tense amount of time, Geoff announced it was clear and they made to move off. <br/>Mitch handed the care of Jamie over to Logan, the younger man well able to carry the slight figure wrapped in the bed cover. They set off at a fast clip, the rear guard keeping a close watch for any sign they were being followed. <br/>Within minutes they reached where they'd hidden the vehicles that brought them, loading Mitch and Jamie into one, Logan in the second. Then they hurriedly drove as fast a prudently possible in the opposite direction from the formerly barricaded and now doomed town of Saratoga Springs. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>It only took a short time to reach the safe house where the rest of the Auvegen survivors waited. The mood was somber when Mitch appeared carrying Jamie, still insensible to what was happening around her. When a new face appeared, but not the two other women lost, it was left to Geoff to apprise them of what had happened. No one disputed the decisions made but it was a disheartened group of former scientists that loaded into the armored vehicles and prepared to leave the area.<br/>In the second car, Mitch cradled his precious burden, brushing the strands of hair covering the pale face and watching the pulse of life at the base of her throat. Having no idea what she might have been injected with, he didn't know how long she would be out. He could only hold her and be thankful she was alive and with him again. It was obvious she'd lost more weight, her skin almost translucent, and her arms mere twigs. Her formerly bright hair was dull and smudged purple rings were visible beneath her closed eyes. What little of her flesh he could see bore faint bruising where she'd been gripped too tightly by large fingers, his own coming up to lace with her lax ones, needing the connection to reassure himself she was very much alive and breathing. <br/>He regretted having to leave behind all the medicines at the clinic, but there'd be other doctor's surgery's he be able to pillage, as well as pharmacies along the way. For now, he just wanted to put as much distance between them and the brutal township they'd just left. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>They crossed the border into Canada as the dawn was starting to streak across the sky. They had returned to the eye eighty-seven and rolled up to the heavily fortified border crossing at Blackpool, the concrete barriers funneling any traffic to single-lane access only. Along the border either side were more concrete slabs over ten feet high topped with rolls of razor wire. Geoff, in the lead car, submitted to the search and handed over the paperwork he'd been carrying since leaving New York. Their destination had always been Montreal, planned weeks before the need to evacuate. The paperwork he presented granted them all safe passage to their ultimate goal and all the authorization they needed, but only after they passed any required medical tests for contamination, of course. <br/>Surrounded by heavily armed border police, augmented by regular army reserves, the convoy made its way slowly to the border agency building, more concrete barriers and razor wire allowing a fallback position from the main border crossing. The cars were directed where to park and an officer approached the second car. <br/>“Doctor Morgan? If you would follow me, sir?”<br/>Mitch nodded wearily, gathering Jamie into his arms and exiting the car. Almost immediately Jamie was taken from him by a burly soldier who carried her behind Mitch as they entered the building. Behind them, each of the cars was being emptied of the rest of the survivors, Geoff Black leaving them to be taken care of and following after Mitch instead. <br/><br/>Inside they were taken further into the building and left to wait in a makeshift medical bay, Jamie laid on one of the gurneys and covered with a blanket. Mitch sat on the chair beside her, overcome with tiredness after the stressful night. He had nearly nodded off when a man in army fatigues appeared, presenting himself as a Captain Townsend, army medic. After shaking Mitch's hand he reeled off a number of questions that were just as quickly answered, gave Mitch a thorough inspection, including taking blood, before turning to look at Jamie.<br/>“What am I looking at here?” The Captain asked. <br/>“White female, 27, recently incarcerated in a brothel, underweight and possibly undernourished for the last ten days. Was injected with a sedative, type unknown sometime in the last twelve hours. I haven't given her a closer examination....” Mitch broke off, unable to maintain any sort of medical detachment. It was Jamie, for God's sake. The Captain glanced at him and nodded his head. <br/>“I need to perform some tests, but I think it would be better if I conducted my examination without you present, Doctor Morgan.”<br/>Mitch tore his gaze away from Jamie's pale face and made to argue, but then decided not to. He berated himself as a coward, but nodded in agreement and left the cubicle, the medic pulling the curtains around the bed to shield the occupant from view. <br/>Almost in a daze, Mitch wandered further along, unaware of Geoff guiding him, and found a chair, sitting down heavily and dropping his head into his hands, glasses dangling from a finger. Geoff positioned himself to the side and kept watch.<br/>Mitch only looked up when a female medic appeared and walked past him to approach the curtained alcove. She announced herself and was called in, disappearing behind the curtains. Almost at once she reappeared and bustled off in the opposite direction, only to return barely five minutes later, her arms full of whatever the medic had asked for. <br/>Mitch rubbed his eyes then grimaced when he saw the state of his hands. Seeing a door indicating a bathroom, he went over and entered, the door swinging shut behind him. <br/>He avoided looking in the mirror, not wanting to see his eyes and the likely emotions roiling below the surface. He thoroughly cleaned his hands and splashed his face, using paper towels to dry himself off. His clothes were little better than rumpled and grubby, but he'd have to wait until he had the unpalatable news from the doctor about Jamie's condition before he did anything to improve his own. <br/><br/>Mitch was curled up asleep in another cubicle when the medic finally emerged. Giving the man a shake, he stood back as Mitch started up, eyes wild behind his glasses. <br/>“I've finished my examination, Doctor Morgan, if you're ready to hear it?”<br/>Mitch nodded and got down off his improvised bed. He looked around the room but the medic shook his head. <br/>“Not here, sir. We'll go down the hall to the office. If you'll follow me?”<br/>“Jamie?”<br/>“There's a nurse with her, in case she wakes up. Plus the nurse will bathe her and put her in clean clothes.”<br/>“That's good. You can burn what she was brought here in.”<br/>The Captain ignored that and waved him into a small office, the black-clad security man nodding and stationing himself outside. <br/>Once seated Captain Townsend started his report. <br/>“As you said yourself, the young lady is underweight and showing symptoms of malnutrition, despite the short time frame. She is not dehydrated, but I would suggest they didn't feed her so to keep her weak and unable to escape. Her blood has come back clear of any infections, including any sexually transmitted diseases. She is also not pregnant.” <br/>He saw the man before him flinch but carried on. “There are some superficial injuries to her sexual organs and abrasions internally, but nothing that won't heal by itself in time. There is bruising around the buttocks, thighs, breasts, and arms with superficial bite marks around both nipples. Finger sized bruising appears on her shoulders and collar bone, and around her neck, although there doesn't appear to be any broken bones or fractures, nor internal damage. There is also some trauma around her mouth, a cut inside her cheek suggesting she was struck at some time recently – either a slap or backhand. Her teeth are all intact and none are loose. Her internal organs appear fine with no evidence of internal bleeding, swelling or damage. She also shows no signs of defensive wounds or evidence of torture which, given the situation you say she's been in, is a lucky break.”<br/>He paused and clasped his hands together on the desktop. “We won't know what state she is in mentally and emotionally until she wakes up.”<br/>“What did they use?” Mitch asked, his voice barely a whisper. <br/>“Ketamine. Without knowing the dosage, or if they laced it with something else, we can only monitor. If it was straight Ketamine, she would have come out of it by now. We have to hope she has no underlying problems to aggravate the potential for hallucinations when she wakes up.”<br/>Mitch sat back in his chair. The report was not as horrific as he expected, but neither was it a clean bill of health. The injuries detailed caused a slide show of probable abuse to cycle through his mind's eye, torturing him endlessly. <br/>“Thank you, Captain Townsend. You have obviously been very thorough and I appreciate that. Jamie is very precious to me.” Mitch swallowed. “How soon can she be moved?”<br/>The medic sat back in his chair. “I'd like to keep her here to monitor until she wakes up...” A knock at the door interrupted him. “Come?”<br/>It was the nurse. “She's coming round, Doctor.”<br/>Both men hurried out of the room and back to where Jamie had been left. The curtains were pulled back and it was clear why the nurse had called them. Jamie was writhing on the bed, her teeth clenched as she fought the bed covers, trying to free her legs or kick something off that only she could see.<br/>Captain Townsend reached her first but had to duck to avoid a roundhouse punch as Jamie swung wildly. Her eyes were open but unfocused, Mitch approaching her from the other side, calling her name in a soft voice, trying to get through to her. It didn't appear to be working, then suddenly she stopped thrashing and lay against the pillows, her chest heaving, hands clenched in the sheets at her side, her eyes closed. <br/>“Jamie? It's Mitch, you're safe, we got you out...you're safe.” His calm, gruff voice seemed to penetrate her defensive shell and she slowly opened her eyes, turning her head to look at him.<br/>“M-Mitch?” One hand unclenched from the sheet and blindly reached for him. He took it carefully in his own and raised her shaking fingers to his lips.<br/>“It's me, Jamie girl, we're safe now, nobody's going to hurt you again.”<br/>She blinked up at him, still trying to focus on his face. A second later and she launched herself upright to wrap her arms about his neck, her face buried in his shoulder, her body pressed tight against him. Mitch held her close, murmuring nothing of consequence into her hair, Jamie not releasing her rigid grip on him, her legs drawn up so she was almost in a fetal position, half on top of the bed.<br/>Jamie's fingers clutched at his back, flexing as if to keep checking that he was real, a keening noise coming from where she pressed her face on his shoulder. Mitch held her, pressing soft kisses to her head, murmuring how much he loved her and wouldn't let her be hurt anymore, also telling her how sorry he was, that he wished she'd forgive him, all the time drawing his hand up and down her back, soothing and grounding her.<br/><br/>When Mitch looked up a few minutes later he found himself and Jamie alone. The doctor, the nurse, and his security chief had left to give them some privacy.</p>
<p><br/>Jamie still held on to him, but not as tightly as before, the noise she'd been making ceased and her body no longer tense and shaking. <br/>“Hey, Jamie-girl?” <br/>A grunt came in reply and he took that as a good sign. <br/>“Feeling better now?”<br/>The slightest nod of her head made him relax a little. <br/>“Ready to face the world?”<br/>The violent shake voicing her denial made him start to make those soothing noises and actions again until she settled once more. <br/>“How about facing me?”<br/>The question hung in the air for long seconds before he felt her move against him, her head peeling away from its place squashed against his shoulder, and rising to allow her hair to fall away from her face. <br/>“I-I'm sorry.”<br/>Mitch started to pluck at the strands of hair covering her face. <br/>“You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. You didn't ask for any of this and you are not to blame for anything.”<br/>He brushed the remaining strands off her forehead to reveal eyes swimming in tears, unblinking and wounded. “I thought I could cope with it, that is was just sex...you know?”<br/>Mitch just nodded, his jaw clenched tight. Jamie drew in a breath. <br/>“I thought if I didn't think too hard about it, let them do whatever it was they wanted to do, I could bear it.” A watery smile briefly twitched her lips up at the corner. “I came up with all sorts of story ideas and characters. Sometimes I didn't even notice when they were...finished.”<br/>“Ah, Jamie girl, you don't have to explain. You're the bravest, strongest woman I know. You did what you had to do...”<br/>He had loosened his grip while she talked, but now he pulled her in for a cuddle, rocking from side to side as if Jamie were a little girl like his daughter, Clementine. Thinking of his bright and beautiful girl made his emotions well up again from the secret hell buried in his heart. He had received news, only days before they had to evacuate from Auvegen, that his ex-wife, her new husband, and his only daughter had perished trying to get out of Boston. Not even the dog had survived. Henry had been shot the day before because he'd started to turn violent, trying to bite anyone who came close. Pulling himself back from his stark grief, he loosened his grip on Jamie and she pulled back to look up at him, her brows drawn together in a frown. <br/>“How long was I out?”<br/>“Probably about eighteen hours, give or take. We've crossed over the Canadian border and just waiting to see how you are before we continue forward to reach Montreal.”<br/>“What happened back at the town? How did you...we escape? Are the other women – Joan and Mel – are they okay too?”<br/>Mitch took too long to reply and Jamie pulled away. <br/>“They are safe, aren't they?”<br/>Mitch couldn't meet her accusing stare and lowered his head. “We had no time. Logan already had you out of the house...”<br/>“Logan? What the hell has he to do with anything?” <br/>“He helped to rescue you. He's here, with us.” Mitch explained. <br/>“So you rescued me and Logan, just not Joan and Mel!” Jamie was incensed and pushed him away. <br/>“You were unconscious, we had no way of knowing if the women were in the house, or where they were. We didn't even know what they looked like, not properly and all the women in the house had been drugged, so we couldn't ask each one who they were.”<br/>“So you left them? You didn't even try?” Jamie pulled away completely, her legs swinging over to the other side in readiness to jump off the gurney. <br/>“Jamie, wait. You don't understand...”<br/>She swung around and speared him with a glare. “I understand that yet again, you've left your people behind to suffer while you get away scot-free. How could you leave them there?! Have you no idea how they will have suffered, what would have been done to them...you abandoned them!” Her voice was becoming a scream, Mitch hearing booted feet coming closer in response. Jamie now had the bed between them, her face contorted with frustrated rage, her body poised to flee. To where, he figured she didn't know, just to get as far from him as possible. <br/>Captain Townsend arrived, the nurse and Geoff Black in tow. Not bothering to ask permission, the medic jabbed a needle into Jamie's arm, the nurse grabbing the enraged woman's body to stop her thrashing until the sedative could take effect. Jamie tried to free herself but the drug was too potent and she quickly slumped in the nurse's arms. <br/>“Not entirely unexpected,” Townsend puffed, lifting Jamie's once more insensible body back onto the bed. <br/>Mitch looked on helplessly, confounded and upset by Jamie's accusations and, in his mind, entirely understandable anger at his supposed treachery. <br/>“She had every right to be angry,” Mitch muttered, Geoff giving him a quick look but saying nothing. <br/>“Look, you need to rest, so does she. I'll hook her up to a drip and let her sleep it off. Get a meal, shower, change of clothes, sleep and we'll see how she is when she wakes up.”<br/>Mitch stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded. The Captain spoke again.<br/>“Your man knows where everything is, so go with him. We'll take good care of Jamie.”<br/>Mitch nodded again and turned to follow his head of security out of the cubicle to sort himself out. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/>When Jamie awoke the next time she lay with her eyes closed and just absorbed the sounds around her. She didn't feel so out of control anymore, the panic of waking up in a strange place missing. Also missing was Mitch. She had cracked her eyelids just enough to take a quick look around and saw the nurse from before sitting beside the bed reading a book, but no one else. Jamie decided to play possum and continued to appear sleeping, while her mind chewed over what she knew. <br/>Obviously, she was no longer in the brothel at Saratoga Springs, which in itself was welcome. She remembered waking up before but it was a bit confused, the feeling of someone holding her tight mixed up with her panic and extreme anger, of her yelling at someone before it all went black again. Had she been yelling at Mitch? Why would she be yelling at Mitch? Her memory supplied the missing reason and she felt an echo of the anger at finding out the other two women had been left behind. And didn't someone mention that Logan was with them? Everything felt jumbled and out of context, fragments that lacked a time frame or explanation. Deciding she'd slept long enough she opened her eyes, the nurse noticing straight away and coming over to look down at her. <br/>“Feeling better?” the woman inquired. “Want to get up?”<br/>Jamie nodded, the nurse helping her to sit upright and raising the back of the bed to keep her there. Jamie looked down and saw the drip attached to the back of her hand. <br/>“Can you take this out?”<br/>The nurse nodded and came around to that side of the bed to do just that. Free of her tether, Jamie swung her legs over to sit on the side.<br/>“Is Mitch around?”<br/>“He was here a few hours ago. I can call him if you like?”<br/>Jamie nodded, feeling better with each passing minute. “Please.”<br/>The nurse was gone only a short time before Mitch appeared, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, his shoulders hunched. <br/>“Hey. How are you feeling?” he asked, not approaching the bed.<br/>Jamie frowned at him. “Somewhat confused. I know we're not in the town, and I think you mentioned something about Logan being here?”<br/>Mitch nodded, still wary. “He was acting as a guard for the militia. He wanted out, so he came with us.”<br/>“Oh.”<br/>Mitch spoke again. “He was the one to rescue you from the brothel. Luckily we found him with you and we got you both out.”<br/>Jamie smiled faintly. “I'll have to thank him for that. I'm glad to know he's alright.”<br/>Mitch looked pained but said nothing. After a moment he spoke again. “We've all been tested and given clearance to carry on to Montreal. Do you fill up to coming? Or would you prefer to stay here?”<br/>Jamie frowned at him. “Why would I want to stay here? Of course I'll come with you.”<br/>Mitch nodded, still keeping his distance. “Okay then. I can bring you a change of clothes if you like? The showers here are hot if you'd...er...care to.”<br/>Jamie couldn't work out why he was being so awkward but decided to let it ride. “A shower, now that would be heaven.”<br/>Mitch let a ghost of a smile lift his mouth. “I'll get the nurse to show you. I'd already sorted some clothes out, just in case.” He turned to go before Jamie could protest at his leaving, disappearing from her sight before she could open her mouth to call him back. The nurse appeared seconds later and together they moved slowly away from the cubicle to the bathroom. <br/><br/>Not long after Jamie walked slowly towards the front of the building, Nurse in attendance, squeaky clean and feeling much better. Waiting for her by the glass doors of the entrance was a familiar figure. <br/>“Logan!”<br/>The young man grinned at her and stepped forward, his arms wide. <br/>“You look better,” he told her, enfolding her in a brief hug, pecking her cheek with a kiss. Jamie did the same and stood back. Seeing him gave her a warm surge, his handsome face the same as she remembered, his hair longer and clothes rougher than the smart police uniform she'd last seen him in. <br/>“Glad to see you escaped New York,” she stated. “How did you end up in Saratoga Springs?”<br/>Logan shrugged. “Long story, barely worth the telling. Luck, for the most part. You ready to go?”<br/>Jamie nodded. “A shower has worked wonders,” she told him, smiling and relaxed. <br/>“Take care, Jamie, and good luck,” the nurse said, turning to go. <br/>“Thank you,” Jamie called after her before walking out of the building with Logan at her side. <br/>Outside, the convoy was lined up once more, the remaining scientists milling about, talking with the men of the security team, or the contingent of army and police still keeping watch over them. When they saw Jamie emerge they hurried over to exclaim over her, welcoming her back as if she was a hero returned from the war. Mitch wasn't among them. The order came down for everyone to get aboard, Jamie surprised when Logan steered her to the fourth car, not the second. When she asked, he told her that Mitch thought she'd like the time to catch up with her friend.<br/>She made to hesitate but Logan turned on the charm and coaxed her to join him and hear of his exploits and if that wasn't enough, he was dying to hear her stories of their escape from New York. <br/><br/>Mitch saw her get into the other vehicle, Logan hovering close, and felt his heart sink into his boots. Jamie still looked fragile, as if a strong breeze would blow her over and he wanted nothing more than to sweep her up and keep her safe, but as she quite rightly pointed out, he had abandoned his people not once, but twice. He hadn't kept anyone safe or helped in any rescue. Disgusted with himself, he stared out of the window, blind to the scenery, his thoughts dark and self-destructive. <br/><br/>Montreal was in a state of lockdown, brigades of soldiers patrolling the street, armored vehicles supporting the foot soldiers, pedestrians barely visible along the sidewalks, few cars traveling the road. Their destination was the McIntyre Medical Sciences building, sixteen floors of research facilities and laboratories, and very smart people all working towards a common goal. Until they'd been forced to flee New York, Mitch and his team had been contributing their corner of the research through the McGill University, talking regularly to fellow researchers involved in the worldwide initiative to solve the animal pandemic and viral mutations. <br/>Now the convoy approached the distinctive building and followed the soldiers directing them after being waved through a concrete and wire barricade, their paperwork granting them passage.<br/>Inside the underground carpark, they all gathered their possessions and prepared to meet the scientists they'd only met through their computer screens and via email. <br/><br/>Mitch was quickly separated from the others and conducted deep into the facilities, carried by a fast lift to the top floor. He stepped out still carrying his bags, an aide relieving him of the burden before leading him to a large office with an impressive view. Inside was a large conference table and several people seated around it. A tall, distinguished black man rose to his feet and approached Mitch. <br/>“Thomas Delevane. It is a great pleasure to meet you in person, Doctor Morgan.” The man spoke with a distinct accent and Mitch smiled to hear it. <br/>“We have spoken so many times on the phone, Professor. The honor is all mine.”<br/>The two men shook hands, Delevane showing Mitch to one of the empty seats. <br/>“You brought your research?” Delevane asked as he returned to his seat. <br/>“Up to the latest back up before we were forced to leave.” Mitch tipped up his shoulder bag and several pen drives and external hard drives slid out onto the glass surface. “Has the waterborne mutations reached Canada?” he asked.<br/>“Not that we are aware of. We instituted a regimen of water testing as soon as you alerted us to its existence. So far we have had only negatives tests back.”<br/>“We recently passed through Saratoga Springs and it didn't appear to have reached there...yet. With the possibility that birds will maintain their usual patterns of migration, it is hoped that it will remain that way as autumn turns to winter.”<br/>“That gives us a small breathing space, Doctor Morgan, but did you make any progress in finding a way to neutralize it?”<br/>“You'll find my notes on what I tried and the results of deliberate infection using rodents, but to date, I found no vector to stop it replicating,” Mitch told them. “Condensing water is the only way to keep it spore free and drinkable.”<br/>“I don't suppose you carry a sample of this spore with you?” Delevane asked. <br/>“And risk infecting uninfected water sources? No. It was too dangerous. All my footage, microscope records, and detailed notes should give you enough to be going on with, without an actual spore itself.”<br/>“Then it will have too.” Delevane turned to one of the other people near him. “Doctor Hutchins, I believe that will be your department.”<br/><br/>The dissemination of all the hard drives and pen drives to different research departments, plus the discussion on each one, ran into hours, refreshments, and bathroom breaks interrupting the meeting for a few minutes before they were back into the minutiae of the work done by Auvegen. When the meeting finally broke up Mitch was both exhausted and energized, his brain working overtime, sifting and sorting through what had been discussed, looking for ways to use the knowledge they had collected to defeat the further spread of the spore and the mutations. The team housed in the Medical Sciences building was pulled from around the world, if there was a cure to find, these people were the best equipped to discover it. Together with others at the meeting, he filed into one of the lifts, taking it down to one of the lower floors to be directed to temporary accommodation. When the doors opened he stepped out, nearly bowling over Jamie who had been standing in the hallway. Mitch reached out to steady her then quickly removed his hand as if burnt. <br/>“I was about to send a search party to find you,” Jamie quipped, her eyes looking him over for what, he didn't know.<br/>“Hey. You settled in okay?” he asked, starting to walk away, following the directions on the piece of paper he held. Jamie followed. <br/>“I'm fine. Wondering what the hell you've been doing for the past six hours.”<br/>Mitch shortened his stride to match hers. “Meetings,” He explained.<br/>Jamie raised an eyebrow. “How did they know you'd be here today?”<br/>Mitch stopped and turned to face her. “They let the head of the faculty know yesterday, from the border station.”<br/>“And they only wanted to see you?” Jamie pushed, no longer having to trot to keep up with him. <br/>“Yes.” Mitch was starting to feel trapped, wanting nothing more than find his room and stop the inquisition. <br/>His door was just up ahead and he checked the number with the piece of paper. “ Well. Here I am.” He waited for her to walk away but she didn't move, looking up at him with a speculative gleam. He tried again.<br/>“I'll catch up with you later, then.”<br/>Jamie merely gave him an amused look before producing a key, unlocking the door and going inside ahead of him. Mitch could feel a violent eye roll coming on and fought the urge to do so. Entering the room he closed the door behind him. <br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/></p>
<p>(dear reader, you are now all caught up with me, so updates may not be quite so swift as they have been.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mitch dropped his bag and notes onto a small side table before entering further into the room. Jamie was seating herself at another small table beside the window looking out over the spread of Montreal. Mitch walked slowly towards her, watching her a little like a man waiting for a bomb to go off. He glanced around, noting the double bed tucked into a corner and a small wet bar with a kettle and microwave. A side door, he presumed, led off to a bathroom. <br/>“Snug,” he said, anything to break the uncomfortable silence.<br/>“We'll fit,” Jamie said, her eyes focused entirely on him. <br/>“We?”<br/>“Yes, Mitch. We.”<br/>Mitch fidgeted, looking down at his feet. “I really don't think....”<br/>“Why are you avoiding me? Why did you unload me onto Logan?<br/>Mitch looked up. “I thought you'd be pleased to see Logan. He was your boyfriend, after all.”<br/>“Was, Mitch. Past tense.”<br/>Mitch looked away from her. “You've been through a horrible experience...”<br/>Jamie raised her eyebrows. “What has that to do with anything? Are you saying you no longer want me because of that?”<br/>Mitch frowned and looked off to the side. “Of course not.” He tried again. “You need time to recover...”<br/>Jamie interrupted him. “I don't blame you for what happened, Mitch. It wasn't your fault.”<br/>Mitch looked down at his feet again. “What about the other women?” he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone. “The ones we didn't rescue. You were pretty clear how you felt about that.”<br/>Jamie looked puzzled for a second. “Obviously something has happened that I'm not entirely clear about. Logan told me about the rescue, why I don't remember any of it, about the decisions made, and the situation. I do understand now how it was, how you had to make a hard decision, that all our lives could have been at risk if you'd gone back for them. It was an impossible choice, Mitch.”<br/>He met her eyes, at last, seeing them clear of the rage they'd held when she'd railed against him back at the border. Could he really believe she didn't hold him in total contempt for leaving those women behind? He found his feet carrying him to the table and the chair waiting for him to sit in. Jamie let him settle before speaking again. <br/>“I don't remember a lot about that first time I woke up. I remember being terrified I was back at the brothel, that someone would start hitting me again.” She drew in a deep breath. “I don't remember anything much other than a need to fight and run away.”<br/>“Not surprising, they injected you with Ketamine which is known to produce hallucinations and confusion in the wrong dose.”<br/>“Isn't that an animal drug?”<br/>Mitch nodded. “It can be, it is also a short term anesthetic for human patients. They may have given you a substantial dose, we just don't know.”<br/>“But it isn't harmful?” Jamie asked, looking worried.<br/>“You were given a thorough examination by the doctor and your blood's taken.” He leaned forward. “There is nothing you need to worry about....nothing.”<br/>“And yet I said or did something that's got you spooked.” Jamie retorted. <br/>Mitch looked down at the tabletop. “What you said...it was only the truth.” <br/>“No. It was distorted by my drugged up state. I can't remember very clearly what I said or did, but whatever it was, you can't believe it, Mitch. You just can't.” She reached across the table with her hand outstretched, willing him to take it. She could see that whatever she'd said had hurt him deeply, had possibly even broken what they had between them. She kept her hand there, laying palm up on the table's surface, waiting for him to make a decision. <br/>Mitch fought to seal a cap on his emotions, stilled his tongue from blurting out all the cruel truth she'd accused him of. She wasn't to blame in any way. He reached for the slender hand and folded his fingers around hers.<br/>“I'm sorry we couldn't get the other women out of that hell hole. If there'd been a way...”<br/>Jamie gave his fingers a squeeze. “We are lucky to be alive, Mitch.”<br/>He nodded, keeping her hand in his. “I'm so sorry you had to go through all that.”<br/>Jamie frowned down at the tabletop for  a second then lifted her head.“I'm sorry too, but I won't let it define me.” She shook his hand to get him to look at her. “I can't get through this without you. Please don't desert me, don't leave me behind.”<br/>Mitch jerked his head up and stared into her eyes, emotion choking him. Tugging on her hand he pulled her out of her seat and around the table, pulling her down to sit on his lap. <br/>He drew in a steadying breath. “Only death could keep me away from you, Jamie girl. I love you.”<br/>Jamie looped her arms around his neck and gazed into his face, seeing the truth in it. Something in her chest bloomed and filled her with warmth, her lips lifting in a smile. “I love you too. I think I've loved you since before I knew who you were.”<br/>He raised an eyebrow. “It wasn't when you saw the size of my office?”<br/>Jamie let out a chuckle. “That might have influenced me a little. But I think it was that first time. I was so scared I'd made a stupid decision, that you'd turn out to be some weirdo sex fiend who'd murder me.” She shook her head. “You were the complete opposite. The flowers, the sexy lingerie, the foreplay...” She stroked the back of his head, noting his hair needed a trim. “You gave me the best night of my life and it only got better from there. Even if I hadn't found out who you were, I was prepared to beg for it to continue.”<br/>Mitch smiled in remembrance. “I think you had me when I first saw you, so trusting and frightened, waiting for me on that bed - every dream I'd ever had brought to life. I never wanted it to end either, I just didn't know if you felt the same.”<br/>“Then it was a happy accident the blindfold fell off.” She shifted slightly. “I know I have some healing to do, they weren't exactly generous with the food there, and I'm too skinny, but I just need time...”<br/>Mitch placed a finger on her lips. “You are perfect. You take whatever time you need, I won't be going anywhere without you being with me if you're okay with that?”<br/>“Thank, God. I thought I'd lost you.” She tightened her hold on him and pressed her cheek against his whisker roughened face. “Don't scare me like that again, Mitch.”<br/>He held her cuddled in his lap, the pair of them remembering the feel and touch of the other, once more in accord, past misunderstandings set aside in the joy of just being together and on the same page again. Despite the monstrosity of what was happening to the world around them, if they had each other, they'd survive. </p>
<p>Logan looked up from his plate and saw the couple enter the room. In an instant, all his nebulous hopes and plans regarding Jamie Campbell fizzled into the ether like so much mist. The older man was looking down at her with his arm around her back, the woman looking up at him with a similarly besotted look on her face, despite the lack of its usual healthy bloom. As they crossed the room, the man bent down and gave the woman a kiss on the top of her head, the woman smiling and leaning into his body for a hug. <br/>“Glad to see that's all patched up now,” a voice behind him stated in a low growl. Logan looked sideways to meet the knowing glance of the security chief.<br/>“Was there ever a doubt?”<br/>Geoff looked at the younger man shrewdly. “Not really, but severe trauma can do funny things to people, as can guilt. They've obviously thrashed some of that out, by the look of them.”<br/>Logan continued his interrupted meal. “Good for them,” he said, ignoring the snort from the man beside him, and watching the pair getting a meal for themselves. It had been nice to be with Jamie again, to speak to her, despite the less than happy situation. He had even entertained a faint hope that they could possibly renew their relationship, but seeing her now doused that spark before it had a chance to catch. </p>
<p>The communications control rooms were on the fourth floor, spread over several offices, the windows curtained and the space softly lit to make the most of the computer screens and the enlarged images playing on the drop-down projection screen covering a large area of one wall. <br/>Jamie was in there, seated beside Mitch and other members, including security personnel, operators bringing up and monitoring different forms of communications still available via satellite or the internet. Currently, the screen they were watching was patched through to a company in Brussels with a similar set up to the university in Montreal. The signal was strong and they were listening to a broadcast of the latest findings by an international consortium, the participants signing in from around the world including Brazil, Moscow, Tokyo, London, and several other European cities. <br/>Delevane was at their backs along with several scientists that Mitch met at the first meeting, all of them listening intently to each presentation, everything recorded for later perusal.<br/>“There are several suggestions to wrest the planet back from this wave of mutations, but none of them address the source.” The broadcast ended on those portentous words, then shifted, the face of their contact in Brussels appearing on the screen. <br/>“As you see, we are no further along other than compiling a list of suggestions, not all of them really workable or even sensible, but we have to include them to find a better way.”<br/>Mitch leaned forward towards the microphone. “Which suggestion is the front runner?”<br/>The woman on the screen cleared his throat. “Understand, this is not one that has mine or the IADG's backing.”<br/>Delavane loomed over Mitch.”We understand, Doctor Sage, please continue.”<br/>The woman drew in a breath. “There is a proposal under consideration to develop an airborne gas that would target anything infected with the mutated strain of the virus. It would effectively wipe out any animal or insect, bird, or waterborne organisms. As you will understand the prospect of wiping out all the fauna of the planet is not a popular one.”<br/>“It sounds insane!” Mitch retorted. “Not only is it completely impractical but it would effectively wipe out the human population along with the animals. Who is promoting this insanity?”<br/>“ The idea is being aggressively promoted by a General Andrew Davies, backed by the global GDJ Corporation. He has the numbers and contacts to carry it out, but not the support of the general assembly.”<br/>“Or anyone with a brain,” Mitch snorted. “This so-called General Davis, does he pretend to be a scientist?”<br/>“Yes, why?”<br/>“He wasn't a general when I knew him, he was just plain Andrew Davies, a cheat who wasn't above plagiarising someone else's work and passing it off as his own. As for being a general, he was never in the army.”<br/>“Are you sure about this?” Thomas Delevane asked.<br/>“The last I heard about Davies, he was poached to be a scientific consultant for a company called Reiden Global out of Mississippi. How he managed to pass himself off as a credible scientist is anyone's guess. I wouldn't let him cross the threshold of Auvegen. He's a phony and a fraud.”<br/>Doctor Sage laced her fingers together and leaned towards the camera. “Be that as it may, he is the only one with any sort of answer to what is happening to our planet, and the only one with any sort of organization. The gas has been created and tested by Reiden Global with effective results. It only requires GDJ to gain enough support of the remaining world leaders and convince the heads of enough scientific groups to back him and it's a done deal.”<br/>Mitch shook his head. “How is he expecting to deliver this gas?”<br/>“Either an airborne delivery with a series of rockets up to the Troposphere boundary level or an aerosol release from high altitude planes, similar to cloud seeding. He is looking to take advantage that with the havoc wreaked on industry and general human movement, the industrial pollution around the world has greatly diminished, although smoke is now the major source of airborne particles and affecting air quality. The biggest issue is the reliability of what they are calling the Noah Objective. If the effects are not all-inclusive or reach every creature on the planet, it might as well be shelved.”<br/>“It should be a non-starter just because of Davies and the company backing him.” Mitch retorted, disgusted by the entire notion. “Of all the hair-brained, stupid ideas, that one is going to be hard to beat.”<br/>Doctor Sage nodded. “I agree, but unless someone comes up with a better solution to the animal pandemic, the Noah Objective will be the only one on offer.”<br/>“Thank you, Amelia,” Delavane added. “We will have to step up our efforts to find a better suggestion. In the meantime, I'll send what we have to date and look forward to discussing with your team the possible outcomes of our research.”<br/>“Thank you, Thomas, Doctor Morgan.” The screen went black and everyone made to get up and leave the room. Mitch absently grasped Jamie's hand as they followed the others out of the communication hub and down to the lifts to get to the next floor up. Mitch pulled Jamie to the stairwell door and pushed it open. <br/>“Feel like some exercise,” he growled, the door banging shut behind them as they started up the stairs. <br/>“Is there really an alternative to the Noah Objective?” she asked, as they rounded the first landing and headed up the next flight. <br/>“There has to be. What Davies is proposing it unworkable, let alone unethical. It would also spell certain death to not only the animal, bird and insect populations, but also the aquatic life, in fresh and saltwater, all the amphibians and fungi, and affect plant life. Knowing Davies they haven't extrapolated it much further into the future than the day after the chemicals drop. The long term effects could be catastrophic, and I'm not being overly dramatic about this, the truth is if Davies and Reiden get the go-ahead to do this, it could mean the end of the planet, certainly the end of the human race. And who's to say that the cocktail they've come up with, won't cause irreparable damage to the humans still unaffected by the virus mutating everything else. We don't know if this is a spontaneous, natural mutation or something cooked up in a lab.”<br/>They reached the next floor access and pushed on into the corridor beyond. Together, they approached the door to the meeting room, Mitch swinging around to face Jamie before entering. <br/>“I know what I sound like, but it's all a distinct possibility and our future and the future of Earth is in the balance.”</p>
<p><br/>On that somber note, Jamie followed him into the conference room, the noise from all the people inside talking over each other sounding like waves impotently crashing against a cliff face. </p>
<p>X x x x</p>
<p><br/>Chloe Tousignant stood at the edge of the wharf to watch the ship slowly ease its way forward along the deep water channel into the marina. The ship was smaller than she'd expected, but that mattered little, it was the human cargo she was more interested in. There was no one visible at the rails as it drew closer and she thought fleetingly of the Marie Celeste, but then a crewman appeared at the bow and prepared to throw a line to the shore to secure the vessel. Letting out a breath, Chloe tugged the collar of her coat up around her ears and tried to stop her trembling by folding her arms across her chest. <br/>The name of the boat, the Emile Adrien was visible although the letters were scratched and defaced, the general condition of the boat less than pristine. She wrote that off to its long journey from the coast of Africa, past Gibraltar and now to the west coast of France, finally arriving months after it had set out at Le port de Meschers, not a normal passenger or cargo port, but big enough to allow it to dock. <br/>The ship was now secured against the wharf and a gangplank lowered to allow the passengers to get off along with the crew. Port employees not busy manning the security fence, were approaching the vessel to help the crew unload cargo onto the dock, a crane swinging pallets of supplies over the side to land on the concrete, then just as quickly to be loaded into the back of trucks waiting patiently. While this was going on a trickle of people started to make their way down the gangplank and onto firmer ground. People from the crowd at her back started to come forward to greet the passengers, most of the refugees looking the worse for their travels, the men growing shaggy beards, the women shrouded in layers of clothing to keep out the bitter wind tugging at their rags. A tall figure, instantly recognizable, raised an arm and waved to her. Chloe running forward to be embraced by Abraham Kenyata, his usually cheery face grim when he pulled back, his hands on her arms. <br/>“It is good to see you, Chloe.”<br/>“You have no idea how thankful I am to see you, too. Is Jackson?...” She tried to look past him but he held her still. <br/>“Jackson is helping his mother to gather their belonging and will be here soon.” He looked down at the smallish bag at his feet. “As you see, I travel light.”<br/>Chloe stared into his dark face, trying to read the truth behind the stoic exterior. <br/>“Was it truly terrible, mon ami?”<br/>“Worse than I think anyone could imagine in their worst nightmares. We are very lucky to still be on this Earth.”<br/>A shout from above alerted them that Jackson and his mother were approaching the gangplank. Abraham jogged over to the walkway to help with the frail woman clutching at her son, her body covered in layers of shawls and blankets, her head covered with a scarf. Chloe could see nothing of her features other than a pair of dark eyes peering at her from the shadow across her face. Elizabeth Oz took Abraham's broad hand with relief, giving up her grip on Jackson to let Abe ease her onto the concrete of the dock. She swayed there for a moment before starting a slow shuffle away from the dockside and past where Chloe stood.<br/>Chloe stared at Jackson, noting the changes but also drinking in his features, so long kept from her. <br/>“Jackson?” she reached out and he grasped her hand, slowly pulling her forward. <br/>“Am I dreaming?” he asked huskily. “You look just as I remember.”<br/>Chloe let out a suppressed sob and threw herself at his chest, wrapping her arms around him and giving in to her relief to have him once more with her. Jackson was similarly moved and held her close, his bearded cheek pressed against her bright hair, his legs wobbly after so long at sea. <br/>The couple remained that way for several minutes, the other passengers flowing past them like a rock in a stream. At length, they pulled apart just enough to share a kiss that was more an affirmation of being together after so long, rather than one of passion. <br/>Chloe pulled back, her arm threaded through his as they turned to follow the rest of the passengers along the dock. Abe and Elizabeth were standing in the lea of a heavily armored vehicle, waiting for the others to join them. An army officer chivied them around to the back and loaded the four of them onboard before shutting the metal doors and signally for the rest of the escort to get ready to get back on the road. <br/>Before they pulled out a woman approached the lead car, dressed in well-worn army camo fatigues and carrying a rifle. <br/>“I need a lift. Ranger Dariela Marzan formerly attached to a peace-keeper unit in East Africa.”<br/>The officer looked her up and down. “What happened to your unit, soldier?”<br/>“Wiped out by a mutt. Where are you headed?” she asked. <br/>The officer smirked. “Does it matter?”<br/>Dariela shrugged. “No.”<br/>“Then climb aboard. You can use that?” he asked, pointing to her gun.<br/>“Better than most,” she stated, hefting it in her arms. <br/>“Good. We'll need all the firepower we can get if we want to get back to base in one piece.”<br/>Dariela climbed up into the passenger seat, casting a quick look through the clear access window at the back of the cab, checking on the passengers so recently loaded. “They must be super important to warrant an armed escort all the way from Paris.”<br/>The officer gave her an arch look before gunning the motor and pulling out to drive along the dock towards the town beyond. Thankful to have landed on her feet once more, Ranger Marzan settled herself and her rifle more comfortably and gazed out at the landscape around her. Given what she'd survived, driving through the French countryside in an armored convoy should be a cakewalk. </p>
<p>X x x x</p>
<p>Jamie stepped out of the bathroom, steam from her shower curling around her before dissipating into the room, a towel wrapped around her torso. She stared at the unoccupied bed in front of her. With the news of the Noah Objective the activity around the McIntyre center had ramped up with meetings going on long into the night and the laboratories a hive of activity as samples of affected animals were trucked in and passed to different departments for study and dissection.<br/>Mitch was called upon at all hours of the day and night, and in the weeks they'd been in Montreal he'd slept in their apartment only a handful of times. Even when he did manage to find his way to their bed, relations between them were loving but lukewarm, Mitch too tired to make love to her, the gulf of their physical relationship yawning wider with each night that passed without any attempt by him to initiate a sexual encounter. Jamie was gaining back weight and her confidence, not afraid to attempt to engage him, but so far all her efforts were gently rebuffed, Mitch content to keep any touching to barely filial, let alone anywhere near to sexual. It was frustrating the hell out of her. On the one hand, there was no doubting his feelings for her, but he wasn't prepared to take it further than hugs, cuddles and friendly kisses. It didn't help that occasionally Jamie still awoke in a sweat, battling her demons, Mitch holding her and rocking them both until she calmed and stopped shaking. <br/>She sat on the side of the bed and slowly pulled a brush through her damp hair, untangling the snarls and giving her something to do while she considered her options. Mitch wasn't indifferent to her, he was just treating her, at least in bed, like a fragile glass ornament that might shatter if he did more than cuddle her.  She loved that he was being sensitive, but it also made her want to scream at him to stop pussyfooting around her and just get on with the sex. She didn't want to be regarded as fragile, or breakable, she wanted him to treat her as he had before, not like some damaged, wounded animal in need of careful handling. Getting up she tugged off the towel and wandered over to the narrow mirror on the wall to inspect her body, seeing the improvements now she'd gained back some of her weight, her hips and ribs no longer so prominent, her breasts filled out and her body more rounded and soft. Mitch had told her she was perfect, but apparently not perfect enough to ravish. She scowled at herself, so absorbed she didn't hear the apartment door open.<br/>Mitch shut the door behind him and swallowed. Jamie appeared to be studying her recovering body in the mirror, turning back and forth, her long hair swinging from side to side as she examined her rounded curves. <br/>“Wow!” he breathed, Jamie spinning around to face him. He'd forgotten just how beautiful she was, his absorption with the current crisis taking his attention away from the physical to concentrate on the theoretical. The picture before him banished all that science and reminded him that in front of him was a living, breathing, warm and lovely woman who loved him. With that reminder repeating itself like a litany in his brain, he started to divest himself of his clothes, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt. He sniffed and decided that despite his driving desire he needed a shower. <br/>“Don't move!” he instructed, shucking his jeans and backing towards the bathroom. “I'll be back in a moment.”<br/>Jamie watched him move towards the bathroom she'd so recently exited and stumble inside. Maybe all her worries were about to be put to rest. She didn't miss the unmistakable gleam of lust in his appreciative brown eyes or the tent in his shorts. Anticipating that their sexual hiatus was about to be broken, she pulled back the covers on the bed, closed the curtains to dim the room, and checked that the apartment door was locked. After waiting so long she wasn't about to let anyone interrupt them. <br/>She mourned the loss of the enticing lingerie and beautiful jewelry, even the ring he'd given her had been lost, but that was not important right now. Lifting the scrap of fabric she'd been hiding for just this moment, she tied it around her head and sat up on her heels, kneeling on the bed in readiness. <br/>Mitch rushed through his shower, not touching himself despite the insistent throb of his cock in the warm, wet air. Roughly toweling himself off, he quickly brushed his teeth before throwing open the door and rushing out, only to be brought up short on seeing Jamie kneeling on the bed, a blindfold covering her eyes. <br/>“Oh, my God, Jamie girl you're going to kill me.”<br/>Approaching his side of the bed, he slowly knelt in front of her, reaching up to untie the blindfold and lower it away from her face. <br/>“I want to see your beautiful eyes,” he told her before tossing the cloth aside. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, allowing her an out despite his body screaming at him in protest. <br/>In answer, Jamie reached up to kiss him, slowly at first, but the kiss becoming much more as it continued. Her warm hand wrapped around his erection and stoked the fires already consuming him. He groaned against her mouth, his own fingers stroking and caressing her breasts, gently tweaking the erect nipples and reacquainting himself with her silky skin. <br/>“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, lowering his damp head and using his mouth to map her neck and shoulders, bending further to tongue her flesh and engulf a plump breast, her fingers kneading his scalp, threading through his wet hair as he feasted on her body. <br/>At length he pulled back to take off his glasses before they both lay down against the pillows, softly stroking fingers over taught flesh, hearts beating rapidly as the tension between them rose another notch. <br/>Mitch made a move to advance their dance to the next step but found himself pushed onto his back, Jamie straddling him. “I've got this, Mitch, just relax.”<br/>He glanced down at his body and then up at her. “Have mercy, Jamie. It's been so long.”<br/>She refrained from pointing out it was his own fault it had taken so long but decided instead to make good use of his rampant flesh and lower herself onto his body, both of them groaning as she sank down and took him inside. It was so delicious she paused for a moment to take in the sensations rippling down her back and legs. Mitch filled her so perfectly she never wanted to move, but her need was too great and her hips started to rock, Mitch's hands coming to rest on her thighs, his head buried back into the pillows. He was never going to last long, but she drew him out long enough to achieve her own release before he arched up for one last thrust, expelling himself deep in her body, both of them crying out in bliss before collapsing down, Jamie draped over him like a blanket, her hair tickling his face. </p>
<p><br/>Not long after, when he slipped from her body, he rolled them over, pulled the covers up and slipped into a contented sleep, arms keeping them anchored together, sated bodies humming, hearts beating in harmony. </p>
<p>X x x x</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><br/>Jamie was using the small window of internet time she was allocated to update her information regarding the spread of the virus around the country, her database including Canada now they had access. She had used some of her precious satellite time on the phone with Chloe, now based out of French Armed Forces headquarter, the Hexagone Balard, the most secure and heavily defended building complex in the center of Paris. The base usually housed somewhere around nine thousand members of the combined military, but with recent deployments, it had been decided to maintain what was left of the government and the diplomatic corp within the forty-one acres of buildings. From the main control center, they had access to whatever communications were left, utilizing the satellites still in orbit along with radio surveillance around the world. In every country, if there was something similar available it had been seconded for use by the military and local government to maintain what control they could and keep contact with centers of government all over the globe. <br/>Chloe had managed, by pulling some strings and putting forward a good case, to contact Montreal and then been put in touch with Jamie, who was acting as Mitch's liaison when he was too busy. They didn't have long so Jamie listened while Chloe filled her in with all the latest developments, personal and professional. <br/>“Jackson's maman is not at all well, poor woman.”<br/>“What's wrong with her?” Jamie asked.<br/>“Some sort of malaise she picked up in Africa. It is not clear and even Jackson isn't entirely sure, but they are keeping her in isolation for the time being.”<br/>“What about Jackson and Abe?”<br/>“Apart from being a little on the thin side, they are both fine. They survived a terrible trip up the coast from Gibraltar, but in the end, they are safe now and that's all that matters.”<br/>Jamie pressed the receiver close to her head, not wanting to miss any of the words despite the crackly line. “How are you?”<br/>“As you would expect, mon ami. Everything is chaos here, what with all the talk about getting on top of this pandemic. We are secure here with the armed forces but in the rest of Paris...Mon Dieu, but it is horrific, Jamie. I fear the world will not recover from what is happening out there.”<br/>“Take courage, Chloe. Every scientist that Mitch is working with, is entirely concentrated on finding a cure. With all the brainpower here and in Europe, they surely will find a remedy soon.”<br/>“We can only hope so, Jamie. Jackson and Abe are still being debriefed about their time in Africa, what they saw happening to the animals, and the entire ecosystem. They even came across a number of the human mutants and barely escaped with their lives.”<br/>“I don't have much more time left, Chloe. I'm glad we managed to arrange this, but I don't know how long before the next window, so take care of yourself...”<br/>“You too, Jamie. Maybe we'll meet again in a few years when the world is back under man's and not animal's control again.”<br/>“Goodbye, Chloe...” The line went dead and Jamie peeled the receiver away from her ear. It was a sobering fact that with air travel grounded due to animals and insects preventing anything getting off the ground and the loss of aircraft service personnel plus pilots it would be a long time before travel between the continents would be available again.<br/>Jamie pushed away from the desk and gathered up her notes. Mitch would be interested to hear the latest, as would the others. <br/><br/>She heard the alarm as she approached the laboratory Mitch frequented, a red light flashing above the door she was about to go through. Instead, the door was locked and no amount of swipes would give her entry. Looking through the glass panel set in the metal skin, she could see more light flashing and people running back and forth. Jamie banged on the glass to attract attention but whatever was going on, it involved everybody inside. More people were responding to the alarm, joining her where she stood outside the door, voices rising as questions flew about her head. She pushed back to find a free space and saw the tall figure of Thomas Delevane striding down the corridor towards her. He had several members of the security team with him, who he directed to clear a space in front of the lab door. He raised his hands to get everyone's attention.<br/>“People. We have had a breach and need to get our medical teams on-site, but first, we need to secure the room. Please clear the corridor...now!”<br/>The scientists and laboratory staff melted back, giving the door a wide berth, the security men facing the staff and leaving Delavane standing alone at the entrance to the lab. Once the staff was clear, he swiped the door lock and the light above the door turned green. With a quick glance behind him, he pulled the door opened and entered the lab.<br/><br/>Jamie stood up against the corridor wall, frozen in place. After Thomas Delevane had entered, he'd been followed by medical teams, one after the other, but still, no-one had come out that way. Most of the original staff that had appeared had now melted back to their own offices or work stations, leaving a few, including Jamie, and the security team to wait for news. The vibration of her phone against her hip made her jump before she pulled it out to answer it. The phone system ran on an inhouse server only.<br/>“Yes?”<br/>“Jamie, can you come to level four as soon as you can?”<br/>“Is it Mitch?”<br/>“Just get here as quickly as you can, and tell no one where you are going.”<br/>The line clicked off and she stared at the receiver for a second, her hand starting to shake uncontrollably. Glancing up she met the eyes of one of the security teams, the man gazing back implacably. He had an earpiece, his eyes flickering as he received orders. Immediately his gaze flicked back to hers.<br/>“You need to go now.” He intoned, a tilt of his head indicating the way back to the lift hub.<br/>Jamie nodded back and shot off at a run down the hallway, the security man looking after her as she pelted away.<br/><br/>Jamie watched the numbers count down, impatient for the door to open. When they did she exited into a scene of chaos. Medical teams were running back and forth, the distinctive figure of Thomas Delevane standing beside a reception desk and looking towards the lifts. Seeing Jamie he waved her over. <br/>Clenching her fists she approached. “Where's Mitch?” she asked tightly, eyes glancing back and forth at the activity around her. “What's happened?”<br/>“Come with me,” he replied, ignoring her questions. Jamie seethed but followed him as he weaved between the hurrying medical staff until they approached another bank of lifts. He paused to wave her forward as one of the lift doors opened. Despite the frenetic activity around them, no one else tried to enter the lift, leaving Jamie alone with him. As soon as they started to move Delevane spoke. <br/>“What do you know about the scars Doctor Morgan has?”<br/>Jamie looked at him in surprise. “Not a great deal. They're not recent and they don't hurt him.”<br/>It was his turn to look surprised. “He never told you how they happened?”<br/>She shook her head. <br/>Thomas looked down at her. “Did he ever tell you of his time with the Shepherds?”<br/>Jamie looked up and shook her head again. ”Is it important?”<br/>The lift stopped its downward descent and the door opened.<br/>“To what's happening now? It could be.” He led the way into the basement level and Jamie looked around her in curiosity. This was somewhere she hadn't been before. It looked very similar to the medical floor, but with a lot less staff and more signs of security in the way of heavy mesh covering windows or any glass panels, and thick security doors every few hundred yards. The nurse on duty at the reception simply peered at them as they passed her desk, barely nodding to Thomas before handing over a key card for him to use on the doors. Jamie stared around her, trying to find anything that would tell her where she was, but the walls, unlike the previous medical floor, had no posters, no reminders, no printed information on display at all. <br/>“Where are we?” she asked as they went through the first door and entered a long corridor.<br/>“A research wing of the university. We're quite a way underground, deemed prudent at the time as a place to house the most dangerous projects that were being studied.” He told her as they walked. <br/>“What sort of projects? And why would Mitch be here?”<br/>“I'm afraid that Mitch Morgan has just been elevated to our number one project under study.”<br/>“W-what?”<br/>“Not very long ago, before you heard the general alarm, Doctor Morgan was studying a new creature brought in this morning. Unfortunately, he became the creature's first victim.”<br/>Jamie staggered and put out a hand to steady herself on the wall. “Is he...alive?”<br/>Thomas glanced at her. “Just.”<br/>Shocked at the blunt rejoinder, Jamie gaped at him. “I want to see him. Now.”<br/>Thomas inclined his head. “Just a little further.”<br/><br/>Jamie stared at the figure suspended in the tank, the blue water, illuminated from the bottom, was slightly milky as it swirled around him, the occasional stream of bubbles rippling to the surface from below the feet of the man floating inside. <br/>The tank was big, towering over her with a step ladder at the side to reach the top, and a lifting crane off to the side dangling a harness. The man's feet were secured to a holding bar and his naked body was punctuated by different size tubes snaking into his flesh, one clearly a catheter, another possibly a feeding tube.<br/>“How is he breathing?” She asked, seeing his chest move.<br/>One of the scientists monitoring the tank's digital display spoke up. “We're particularly proud of this feature. The liquid is made up of perfluorocarbon or PFC as it is known, used for liquid ventilation. It has proven to be perfectly suitable as a breathing medium, as it not only dissolves high amounts of oxygen but also acts as an anti-inflammatory for human tissue. Here, it has been combined with the chemical equivalence of human amniotic fluid, which babies breathe in the womb. Together, they create a complex healing fluid.” The scientist beamed at his audience, ignoring the man floating behind him. “It is quite ingenious, as we can also inject other substances, like stem cells into the fluid that will aid in the patient's recovery.”<br/>Jamie placed her palm against the thick plastic wall of the tube. Mitch appeared distorted from the curve of the surface as if viewed through a prism. His flesh looked pale, exaggerated by the blue liquid but it was easy to see the new injuries overlapping the old scars. They gaped open with no stitches to close them.<br/>“Is it the same as last time?” Thomas asked. <br/>The attendant referred to a file held in a pocket on the side of the tank. “It says here he got too close to a Razorback. ”<br/>Jamie stared at him. “He was attacked before?”<br/>Delevane raised a dark eyebrow. “You saw his scars. They are from an animal attack about five years ago when he was part of the Shepherds.”<br/>“Who are these Shepherds, and why was Mitch with them?” Jamie asked.<br/>Delevane waved away the hovering attendant before continuing his explanation. “He was invited to join them. These Shepherds are not to be compared with the Sea Shepherds or Greenpeace. They are not some group of tree huggers or environmentalists. The Shepherds are a collection of radical scientists backed by rogue elements in nearly every government on this planet. Their objective is to....well, nobody actually knows what their objectives are, certainly no one in the genuine scientific community knows what they are trying to do, but it has been suggested we are now suffering the after-effects of their unsanctioned dabbling.”<br/>“And Mitch wanted to join them?” Jamie cast a glance at the body suspended in the tank. <br/>“No, but it was an opportunity he couldn't refuse to at least meet with them and see what they were about. The Shepherds were working underground and strange reports were surfacing from a mole in the organization. Around the same time these rumors appeared, the IADG was formed.”<br/>“IADG?”<br/>“International Animal Defense Group. The people I answer too.”<br/>Jamie's brain was whirling. “So Mitch didn't want to join them?”<br/>“Correct. He was invited because he'd created Auvegen and he had a considerable standing in the animal veterinary branch of science.” He glanced down at Jamie. “You may not have already realized but Mitch Morgan is something of a genius.”<br/>Jamie felt the urge to roll her eyes and in a less fraught situation she would have done so, instead she sent her companion a thin smile to indicate she knew quite well that her Mitch was above average in the brain department. <br/>Delevane shrugged and turned away to view the naked body in the tank. <br/>“During his time spent visiting with the Shepherds, he was attacked by one of their experiments. It was more like he was savaged, his injuries at the time were life-threatening and it took him months to fully recover.” Thomas drew in a deep breath. “Unfortunately, before being dumped at a South American hospital, they attempted to wipe his memories of where he'd been and with whom. It was only the fact he kept repeating the word shepherd once he was conscious that we had any inkling of who he'd been with. His bloodwork came back revealing he'd been infected with some sort of hybrid deoxyribonucleic acid. As he appeared to recover without any lingering side effects, it was deemed inert and unlikely to cause any long term problems.”<br/>“How is it you know all about this?” Jamie asked. “About his medical background and how he got those scars?”<br/>Delavane sighed. “The drug they gave him was only partially effective in wiping his memories of the Shepherds. He still retained enough to want a thorough investigation of his bloodwork, hinting that there might be something anomalous about it, but he couldn't elaborate. He contacted me and sent me a sample to examine.”<br/>Jamie waited for him to continue, but Delevane didn't, walking away from the tank to sit in an empty swivel chair near a bank of monitoring computers. Jamie followed slowly, casting a look back at the unresponsive body in the liquid.<br/>“You found something?” she asked, feeling impatient to hear the whole story. <br/>“Yes. And no. The DNA told us nothing of any consequence. He eventually recovered from the mauling, his body healed and he still had his memories of everything before and since his trip to the Shepherds headquarters. There was nothing more to do.”<br/>Jamie chewed on her lip, feeling so far out of her depth she was drowning. “So why bring me into this? Why tell me all this elaborate back story now, if Mitch didn't think I needed to hear it.” She masked her turbulent emotions as best she could, stung that Mitch had chosen to tell her so little of his past life. It mortified her that she'd never pressed to know about his previous activities, her normal curiosity blunted for some reason. She had taken, on face value, the limited history she'd dug up on him for the article, then not bothered to explore any further. She didn't want to examine too closely why she'd been content to continue such a shallow relationship with a man she now professed to love, and who had declared he loved her. When did she lose her journalistic inquisitiveness? When had she become so blindly trusting?<br/>Delavane interrupted her internal argument. <br/>“I am telling you all this, Miss Campbell, because Mitch, when you both first came here, signed all the legal paperwork to make you the inheritor of his entire estate, including whatever is left of Auvegen, its intellectual property, and all his personal belongings, in the event of anything happening to him.”<br/>Jamie felt a shiver of icy cold flush through her veins. “What?” She asked faintly, not sure she heard correctly.<br/>Delavane leaned forward and gently poked her with a long brown finger just above her heart. “If he doesn't survive this...he's left it all to you.”<br/>Jamie remained frozen, disbelieving what she was hearing. “But that can't be right, he has a daughter...Clementine, surely...”<br/>Delavane sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “Dead, I'm afraid. Along with her mother and stepfather.”<br/>Jamie stared at him, shocked anew. “He never said...poor Mitch.”<br/>She swung around to stare at the man in the tank, wondering if she'd really known him at all, tears springing to her eyes when she considered the grief he must have been carrying and never a word to her. Had he really shared anything of worth with her or was it truly only about sex.<br/>Delevane steepled his fingers, regarding her closely. “I was surprised myself when he asked me to witness the paperwork. Mitch was always a private man, secretive about some things, not speaking unless he had something important to say or share. When he told me about you, I was glad, but your reactions tell me he was not entirely forthcoming, even to you.”<br/>“When did he tell you about me?” Jamie asked, feeling anger well up, overtaking her confusion.<br/>“When he brought you here. This entire operation is top secret and open only to those that had signed on with us over the years. Did you never wonder how you were accepted here without even a token security clearance?”<br/>Jamie gave him a quizzical look. “But the other scientists, the security guys...Logan!”<br/>Delevane gave her a small smile. “The other scientists are all known to us, the security team is employed only on some levels, and your friend, the ex-policeman – Logan Hale, is currently part of the exterior security team, not allowed clearance for any part of this building other than the cafeteria.”<br/>“Mitch vouched for me?” Jamie asked.<br/>“Some months ago when the pandemic reared its ugly head, he advised us of his inclusion of you if the situation arose and you had to evacuate New York.”<br/>Jamie stood numbly, accepting the proof that the man she purported to love had been preparing for what was happening now for some time, all without informing her of said plans or the very likelihood of them coming to fruition. She felt breathless and confused, teetering on an emotional back foot and trying to sort out her jumbled feelings.<br/>Some of the turmoil must have been clear to the man watching her, his tall figure unfolding from the chair, only to gently steer her with a hand on her arm to take the seat before her legs gave out. Jamie stared up at him, trying to absorb all he'd told her. Swallowing hard, she glanced over at the man in the tank. <br/>“How long will he need to be in there? I assume he's sedated?”<br/>Delevane shrugged. “This treatment is largely experimental, something Mitch offered himself up for in the event something like this happened.”<br/>“So you don't know?” she pressed.<br/>“We have to wait and see. He may only be in there for days, or as long as a week or longer.”<br/>Jamie swallowed. “Has this been used before?”<br/>He shook his head. “Mitch is our first human trial of the tank.”<br/><br/>They found her a comfortable chair to rest in and a workstation to continue her own research during the day. Delavane had tried to prevent her but Jamie dug in her heels, if Mitch was staying in the tank, she was staying with him. <br/>The work was just an excuse but she put her time to good use when she found the pen drive in Mitch's meager belongings that held her writing efforts. He'd also had a backup of her research which she now periodically updated for appearance's sake, but it was her writing that drew her now. Even faced with a world that in all probability no longer had a purpose for novels, it salved her confused state of mind to read over her novel and tweak some of the editing. She also started to compile plot points to use in a possible sequel as well as explore other storylines and original characters. All the while she kept half an eye on the people monitoring Mitch's tank, often questioning them on the readout if they showed a particular interest or exclaimed over the findings. <br/>Days past and the outside world was now viewed through her computer and the brief connections she made when going up to the cafeteria level or back to the flat for a shower and sleep. She saw Logan on an infrequent basis, presuming he was assigned to night shifts more often than not when she didn't see him for days, same with Geoff Black and the men from Auvegen. She had plenty of time to chew over what Thomas Delevane had imparted about Mitch, about all the things he'd never told her despite their intimate relationship. Her emotions swinging between desperate sympathy for the loss of his daughter, to anger that he'd kept so much of himself a secret. She was generous enough to admit that she hadn't pressured him to reveal much about his life before her, both of them so caught up in the physical that past relationships had hardly become an issue between them. <br/><br/>“He's growing a beard,” she said out loud, pressing her hand to the hard curve of the glass, noting that his wounds seemed to be healing well, closing without stitches and looking less angry. His other scars seemed to look less pronounced also, the skin less puckered, the surface less raised. She moved to view him from another angle, staring hard at his skin to judge better the differences. She turned to regard the technician on monitoring duty that day. “Have you noticed his skin?”<br/>The man swiveled in his chair to look at her. “In what way?” he asked. <br/>Jamie pointed at Mitch. “His scars, they look...lessened.”<br/>The intern got up and wandered over and peered closely, looking at the body within from different angles. “You might be right. We're taking a static image every day, let's compare them.”<br/>Together they returned to his computer station and Jamie waited while he brought up the sequence of images. When they watched each photo flip past they could see quite clearly the healing of his skin, the rips and tears visibly closing as if pulled by an invisible cord, the slow growth of his beard testament to the days passing. After flipping through the images a third time the man sat back in his seat and looked up at her. <br/>“Given how deep some of those claw marks were, this is very promising.”<br/>Jamie beamed. “So how long before he gets out of the tank?”<br/>Her companion frowned. “I'm sorry. I thought you understood...”<br/>“Understood what?” she bristled.<br/>“He's not coming out anytime soon...if ever.”<br/>Jamie stared at him in shock. “That's insane. He's healing, he's alive and getting better, it proves the tank works!”<br/>The man drew back from her, physically and emotionally. “I have to pass on my finding.” Turning his back on her he started typing in notes on Mitch's case file, ignoring Jamie entirely. <br/>Realizing it was pointless to argue, Jamie went to her own computer and shut down what she'd been doing, picked up her security card, and marched out of the room without another word. <br/>When the door shut behind her, the technician picked up the phone on his desk and made a call. <br/><br/>Delevane's PA said he was in a meeting and not to be disturbed – by anyone. Stumped at the first hurdle, Jamie went back to the flat to think. No one had told her that Mitch wasn't slated to be revived, it didn't make sense. If Mitch was a genius why keep him stuck in a tank, in a coma with no likelihood of being awoken? He was obviously healing, so why not revive him? Unable to answer the most basic of questions, or reach the man who would most likely be able to answer them, Jamie sought out the only other person she could trust completely. <br/><br/>Geoff Black peered through the scope of his rifle, bringing the distant object very close. It was another mutt. Easing the gun against his shoulder he fingered the trigger, keeping the target in sight and squeezing firmly. A plume of blood sprayed from the creature's head and it collapsed to the ground. His mouth twisted in a grimace. Shooting unarmed targets that had no control over their actions was like shooting fish in a barrel. He understood the necessity but disliked it all the same. He released his grip on the gun and rested it on his shoulder before turning away from his lookout. As he climbed down the ladder to give up his shift to the next man on, he saw another figure waiting for him. <br/>“Good luck,” he nodded to his replacement, before approaching the other.<br/>“Jamie?”<br/>“Geoff. I need your help.”<br/><br/>They sat in a corner of the huge cafeteria, aware that they were most likely being watched through the various cameras dotted around the room, but as they were known to each other, it wasn't entirely unusual that Jamie would seek out the former Auvegen Security chief.<br/>“I'm sorry, Jamie. I wasn't aware of any of this. They've kept me and my team on a pretty regular rotation, mostly on nights.”<br/>“I know. I've been trying to reach you for days. None of my messages seemed to be passed on.”<br/>“I'll look into that. Now, what are we going to do about Mitch?”<br/>Jamie looked down into her cup of coffee. “I don't know. Sure, I have a security card to get me in and out of the room, but I don't know what the procedure is to wake him up or lift him out of the tank itself.”<br/>Geoff took a sip of his own drink, appearing to anyone watching to be relaxed and just passing the time with an acquaintance from before.<br/>“Can you find out?”<br/>Jamie looked up. “Without being caught? Unlikely. The tank is monitored all hours and they don't exactly leave the instruction book lying around for me to read.”<br/>“What about this Thomas Delevane of the IADG?”<br/>Jamie sighed. “I'm being blocked from contact with him. I've tried for three days to get in to see him, but it's been impossible.”<br/>Geoff frowned. “Then I don't know how we can get Mitch out of there.”<br/><br/>Without Geoff being available to help, Jamie had to try and find a way to access more information about the tank herself. She tried not to vary her routine too much to raise any red flags and didn't ask any questions that would alarm anyone keeping close tabs on her. Every day she checked Mitch's condition, his wounds now completely healed with little evidence of them being there to start with, plus his former scars were now only visible if she looked really hard. The technicians didn't watch her when she was looking at Mitch, so she was able to inspect the monitoring panel at the side without raising suspicions. Even to the untutored, it showed a regular heartbeat, body temperature, fluid stability, oxygen levels, and a timer to record how long the patient had been in the tank. There were other indicators but nothing to tell her what they kept track of. Visually she checked him over minutely, noting that he was losing weight, any excess weight he had before entering the tank was now gone and his bones becoming more prominent. His muscles were more visible as well as his body continued to shed the layers of fat under his skin.<br/>The scruff on his face was now a full-blown beard, thick and dark, his head hair appreciably longer, waving like fine seaweed in the faint current generated by the recycling pump of the tank. She also noted his finger and toe nails were growing long, his hands sometimes flexing and turning them into talons on the ends of his fingers. <br/><br/>During one of her inspections, she thought she noticed subtle head movements, albeit slow and languid, it was more than he usually did. She watched closely, her hands pressed against the glass, scanning his face for any hint he was waking up. She often talked to him in her mind, not wanting the technician to hear what she was saying to him. Their conversations were by necessity one-sided and she often berated him for not letting her into his life, not telling her everything, despite how unreasonable it sounded even to her. She wanted to stay angry at him but that was impossible, her feelings for him unchanged despite everything. At one stage she leaned her forehead against the thick glass, willing him to respond, smiling at the lunacy of her thoughts. <br/>As she stood there, eyes closed and body pressed to the tank, the man inside twitched, the movement so small it didn't set off any alarms and went unnoticed by the medical technician at his computer. When she pulled back, he looked the same as moments before and she turned away, unaware that he'd reacted.<br/><br/>X x x x<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<br/>
Thomas Delavane stood in front of the blue-lit tank and carefully watched the man floating inside it. The technician usually on duty had been sent out of the room on an errand.<br/>
Beside him stood the former Shepherds mole, Gaspard Alves, who had stolen the plans for the tank on one of his past assignments.<br/>
“It is a shame Robert Oz is not here to see this, I think he would have been proud of the creator of this technology.” Thomas turned to regard his henchman. “It is good to have you back with us.”<br/>
The smaller man smiled thinly. “Robert Oz. He never wanted the hybrids to be developed in the first place, to find out now that they will be wiped out by the Noah Objective would be sweet revenge for him.”<br/>
Thomas chuckled mirthlessly. “You have new intel?”<br/>
“Robert Oz may have disappeared off our radar, but he is still out there, not dead as is believed.”<br/>
“I know this, why do you remind me.”<br/>
Gaspard clicked his tongue in annoyance. “The Shepherds wanted to reduce the human population to sustainable levels, that was their one and only goal. When Robert Oz fell off the grid, their plans still went forward with the cyproterone acetate gas, intending to kill off the animals infected with the rogue mutation.”<br/>
“Again you tell me nothing new.”<br/>
“They reckoned without his daughter.”<br/>
Thomas turned to look down at his fellow Frenchman. “Daughter?”<br/>
“The one person no one took into account, the only person the Shepherds knew nothing about. When Robert Oz discarded the hybrid project, it may have been put aside by the Shepherds, but not by his daughter. It is the reason I had to return. The South American base is abandoned, with no one left to answer for their crimes. But there is talk of a new base, one that is the source of what is taking over the planet today. Unknown to maybe the hardcore Shepherds, but not their backers, is Abigail Westbrooke, bastard daughter of Robert Oz, and her continued research and creation of this plague of hybrids starting to eradicate anything they come into contact with.”<br/>
Delevane looked thoughtful. “Do we know where this woman is?”<br/>
Alves shook his head. “There were only whispers. Nothing definite. If we were to track back to the first sighting or incident involving the hybrids we might be able to pinpoint her base, but who would have such knowledge?”<br/>
Delavane smiled. “I know just the person. She has been working with Doctor Morgan and has compiled an extensive database with just that information.”<br/>
“Voila! You have found the solution, now we just have to find this Abigail Westbrooke and we can halt these hybrids from destroying this planet. If we don't, we have little hope of surviving very much longer.”<br/>
“You worry too much, Gaspard. You forget the Noah Objective – the great solution and savior of the world, according to the Shepherd's themselves. General Davies is doing a fine job convincing what remains of the heads of government in Europe that his plan is workable and the only solution. It will just work in reverse to the original intention. The Shepherds think it will further reduce the human population, when in fact it will do the reverse and kill off the animals. Ingenious, n'est-ce pas?”<br/>
“A double-cross for a double-cross. That was fine for the original animal mutations with the defiant pupil, but what about these manufactured hybrids? Will they respond to the gas in the same way?”<br/>
“With all the plots within plots, it is hard to keep up, but with Morgan out of the way, there is less likelihood that a true cure will be found in time.”<br/>
Gaspard looked surprised, indicating the man in the tank. “You mean this was not an accident, that the attack was on purpose?”<br/>
Delavane smiled. “The cure was always a long shot, but if anyone could find one it was going to be this man. He had to be stopped, or at the very least put aside for as long as possible.” Together they turned to walk away.<br/>
Neither man noticed the faint tremor in the water tank beside them.<br/>
<br/>
Jamie had managed to wheedle her way into the laboratory that held the creature that had attacked Mitch. Seeing the ferocious predator up close, it made her wonder how he'd survived at all. With the judicious use of flattery and feminine wiles, Jamie found out that the creature was nothing like the animals affected by the defiant pupil, that in fact as far as any of the scientists studying the specimen could figure it was an entirely manmade construct with no basis in nature. The men at the forefront of the study went as far as to praise the expertise of whoever gene-spliced the creature, named a Razorback, as they were obviously an insane genius to not only attempt such a feat but to end up with a viable, diabolical living result.<br/>
When she brought up how Mitch had been the only one to be close enough to be attacked it came out that someone, still not identified, had accidentally shut Mitch in with the creature, ensuring that he would be savaged when the creature awoke earlier than expected from its anesthetized state. Jamie, already suspicious of the circumstances, wondered if the whole set up had been an unsubtle way to remove Mitch from the scene, and test the tank's viable use at the same time. And they were only two of the possible motives up for grabs.<br/>
What she did manage to find out was that since Mitch had gone, no one had managed to progress the search for an antidote any further. Any hope of a cure was still months away.<br/>
<br/>
Sitting on a stool next to the tank's wall, she leaned the side of her head against the cold glass, weary and heartsick that she was not making any headway in finding how to release him from his liquid prison. She had managed to find out a ton of information, but none of it could be used to free him from the watery coma he'd been placed in. When she glanced up at his body suspended in the liquid she noted the changes, the scars all but vanished, his body leaner and more finely drawn than she'd ever seen in, his lower face obscured by his luxuriant beard, his eyes still stubbornly closed.<br/>
The technician on duty was absorbed in playing a computer game, the sound turned down but not exactly what he was supposed to be doing. She supposed it was pretty boring taking care of Mitch. All they had to do was take readings off the tank telemetry at the start and end of their shifts then twiddle their thumbs as the hours ticked by. Other than the visual changes to his body, there was nothing else to see or do for him.<br/>
<br/>
Discouraged, Jamie sighed deeply and made to get up, turning as she always did to lay her hand on the curve of thick glass in a farewell to the man inside. When she raised her eyes to look him in the face she almost screamed out loud. His eyes were open. Lightning speared down her limbs, as her heart thumped heavily in her chest, her lungs heaving. She blinked to reassure herself she wasn't just wishful thinking, the man in the tank keeping his eyes pinned to hers in an unblinking stare. Jamie cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the technician but he was too busy slaying trolls to notice her sudden tension.<br/>
She looked back and met Mitch's deep brown eyes, her own wide and surprised. She also felt a spear of alarm. They didn't expect him to wake up, so what would they do when they realized he was just that. Awake.<br/>
He made some movements, the muscles in his arms and legs flexing making the water slosh a little against the top. Jamie waved her hand to try and convey that he shouldn't move, another glance over her shoulder reassuring her the tech at the computer was oblivious. Whipping back to face Mitch she found that he wasn't there, her inward drawn gasp making her feel faint. The tubes that had been attached to him were just floating in the liquid, the body they'd serviced missing. She looked up and found Mitch sitting on the edge of the tank, one leg dangling down, the other bent at the knee, his arm resting on it. Blue liquid trickled down the outside of the tank, his wild hair now slicked back on his head, his mouth open to allow him to gulp in raw air.<br/>
Jamie could only gape at him, impressed as hell but also terrified of what was going to happen next. The technician let out a shout, the game forgotten in finding his patient awake and out of the tank.<br/>
“What the fuck?!” He reached for the phone on his desk but suddenly slumped forward as if shot, his body sliding to the floor in an untidy heap. Jame stared at the body, her own flattened against the wall of the tank. A sound tore her gaze away from the technician to look to her left in time to see a slick figure land silently on the floor beside her in a crouch. Staying like that for a moment, he then slowly rose to his full height, his skin stretched tight over the underlying muscles and bone, the dark pelt of hair covering his chest streaming water, a shake of his head doing the same with his hair.<br/>
“M-Mitch?” Jame felt she wasn't going to be able to stand up for much longer, the shaking in her legs making her press her back against the wall of glass even harder.<br/>
The man standing beside her cast her only a cursory look before padding barefoot over to the slumped technician, using a toe to prod the man in case he was faking. The fallen tech didn't stir. Satisfied, the formerly comatose man advanced on the woman facing him. When he was only inches away he stopped, Jamie watching his every move like a rabbit mesmerized by a stoat. Tentatively he lifted his hand, hesitating before touching her face, his fingers instead plucking at her long red-gold hair, feeling the silky strands between the pads of his fingers.<br/>
Jamie swallowed on a dry mouth. “Mitch...do you remember me?”<br/>
He looked quizzical for a moment, then his furrowed brow cleared and he smiled. “Jamie.” He barely whispered her name but it was enough to release the tension she'd been holding in, her shoulders suddenly relaxing so that she slumped in relief, her face turned up to him.<br/>
Mitch stared at her, holding her eyes for a long second before leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers. He felt cold and slippery but she didn't care, he was alive and awake and standing in front of her.<br/>
Without breaking the kiss, she leaned forward against his chest, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck, keeping herself anchored to him. After a moment's hesitation, Mitch did likewise, clamping his arms around her back and holding her tight.<br/>
Jamie felt light-headed, the kiss devolving into something heated and hungry, Mitch devouring her as a man starved, his grip incredibly strong for a man so long inactive, suspended in liquid. She didn't even mind the beard, too pleased to have him holding her to worry about such a triviality. At length she broke for air, Mitch showing no such intent, seeking her lips until she had to cover his mouth with her hand to stop him.<br/>
“Mitch, I have to get you out of here! Other's will be coming and you're not safe.” Something of her urgency managed to get through to him and he released her. Jamie ran over to the man on the floor and started to strip off his outer clothes, noting absently that there was no obvious sign of violence begging the question of what had made the man keel over like that. Too fearful that they'd be interrupted before much longer, she passed over each item of clothing for Mitch to put on, the t-shirt and trousers too large for his new body. It would have to do until she could get him to their flat and use his own clothes. The shoes were useless, so she left them, tugging on Mitch's hand to get him to follow her out of the room. Now she had to get them to the elevator and out of the basement medical center without anyone seeing them. Luck was on their side, Jamie seeing the door start to open and pulling Mitch beside her so they stood behind the door, screened from anyone entering the room. When the duty nurse appeared, responding to a silent alarm visible at her desk, Jamie and Mitch slipped out through the door unseen. Racing down the corridor, Mitch beside her holding her hand, Jamie used her card on the security doors in quick succession, reaching the lift doors and pressing the button to call the lift. Her luck held and the doors opened at once. Hustling Mitch inside she pushed him to the back wall and pressed the button for their residential floor. Mitch had remained unusually quiet after speaking her name, the fact only now giving Jamie pause. She looked up at him and met his dark eyes staring back at her, a half-smile tilting his lips.<br/>
“Mitch?” she queried softly, wondering briefly if she wasn't doing him more harm than good, his exit from the tank only happening minutes before.<br/>
“You're going to be glad of your glasses,” she babbled, watching the numbers rise on the lift display, willing them to go faster. By now the nurse will have raised the alarm and they wouldn't have a lot of time.<br/>
When the lift doors finally opened she looked out to scan the hallway of the accommodation wing, seeing it empty. Given the time of day that wasn't entirely a surprise. Grabbing his hand she set off at a fast pace and they quickly reached their apartment door. Pulling Mitch inside, she just as quickly shut the door and locked it, looking around to find something to barricade it with. Instead, she was grabbed and picked up, then just as suddenly thrown on the bed, where she bounced, winded.<br/>
“Mitch?!” she gasped, only to look up after brushing her hair back to once more find him naked in front of her, his borrowed clothes discarded by the bed. Jamie glanced down and her mouth formed an “Oh.” Mitch appeared to have something quite specific on his mind.<br/>
She lay quietly as he efficiently stripped her of everything, his body then covering hers, all in complete silence, Mitch not saying a word, letting his body speak for him. He was no longer cold, his skin radiating heat as he once more kissed her, his lips moving over hers, tongues tangling. Not bothering with foreplay, he pulled back before lifted her legs, spreading them wide and positioning himself at her entrance. He was entirely focused on the need to couple with her, Jamie thankful that her body was ready to welcome him, his forceful plunge into her body making her give a cry, the sound swallowed by his mouth on hers again.<br/>
Her hands wrapped around his forearms as he braced himself above her, his hips driving him into her body with an urgency that wasn't his usual style, Jamie hanging on as he plundered her, leaving her breathless and a little fearful. With his teeth gritted, he thrust hard one last time before expelling himself deep inside her, hips jerking to keep him seated. When he was done he lowered himself to drape over her, not withdrawing but filling her possessively. His eyes held hers as if seeing her for the first time, his intent gaze wandering over her face, one hand stroking her hair, then over her upper body, focusing on her breasts, the nipples pink from rubbing against his chest.<br/>
He breathed her name on a raspy exhale. “Jamie.” proving that he knew who she was. Tears sprung to her eyes, her emotions a mess. She had so many questions, not least about his odd behavior and the changes in his body, lack of conversation, and what the hell was going to happen now.<br/>
<br/>
Gaspard had the security footage ready for his superior when he arrived, both men watching the escape until the pair left the room, eluding the nurse with ease.<br/>
“Incredible. Any normal person would have had difficulty walking, let alone doing what he just did. If I didn't know it was him in the tank, I'd almost say that was someone other than Mitch Morgan.”<br/>
“He's positively predatory,” Gaspard added, a touch of awe in his voice. “What do we do now?”<br/>
Delavane rubbed his chin, staring as the footage replayed again. “He displays the typical behavior of a mutated male but without the savagery.” He stared more closely at the screen. “What is the prognosis of the technician?”<br/>
“Initial reports suggest he is concussed, his skull showing no bruising or injury, but his brain showing swelling and a small bleed. No one has any suggestions on how it was done.” Gaspard pointed at the screen. “He moves like nothing I've ever seen.”<br/>
“In a blur,” Delavane muttered. “This is not without precedence. Early reports of human mutations mentioned that the subjects appeared to be able to move at accelerated speeds, almost dodging bullets when fired upon.” Delavane pulled at his bottom lip. “An interesting side effect, but not all mutts display this ability. Most go the other way, building up muscle mass so they act like tanks, absorbing injury without stopping.”<br/>
“Where is he now?” Gaspard asked his hands on his hips. “Should he be allowed to be on the loose?”<br/>
Delavane waved his hand in dismissal. “He is still in the building, in the quarters he shares with the woman, Jamie.” He pointed to the screen, watching the couple embrace. “It would appear that some of the reports about mutts are true. They all display an intense biological imperative.”<br/>
Gaspard shrugged. “Maybe he just remembers their previous relationship.”<br/>
“Non. Every human male that has been studied, that goes through the mutation process show a marked lack of awareness of their former lives or the people who knew them. No, this is different. He is not overtly violent or rough with her.”<br/>
“So? He hasn't mutated.”<br/>
“Tsk!” Delavane made an annoyed sound. “Of course he's mutated, just not in a way we have seen before. He is something new.”<br/>
<br/>
Jamie watched from the bed as Mitch snipped away at the beard covering his jawline. In the hour they'd been back at the apartment, Mitch had fucked her five times, reaching ejaculation each time, a record recovery time between each session for him, Jamie only calling a halt when her body started to complain about the constant pummeling, her tender flesh swollen and sore. Mitch had stared down at her for a second then nodded, getting off her and the bed to use the bathroom, leaving her to stare after him, her body throbbing in the aftermath. Apart from the first time, she hadn't orgasmed again, the man having sex with her uncaring, seemingly intent on filling her to overflowing without pause. And all without voicing a word, in fact in almost total silence except for the occasional grunt when he climaxed. If she had to describe the experience it was akin to a mechanical impregnation. He wasn't rough or violent, she bore no bruises or injuries other than the soreness from overuse, but this wasn't her lover, the man who delighted in foreplay, of spending time to tease and titillate before making love to her. That wasn't the man who stood naked before the mirror and steadily removed the hair covering his face. She let her eyes wander over his body, no longer distorted by the thick glass of the tank. His skin was smooth and unmarred by scarring, no hint of the savage mauling he'd so recently suffered. His flesh was pink and healthy-looking after a shower, his frame lean but not gaunt, the play of muscles and tendons clearly seen as he moved and flexed, not an ounce of excess fat anywhere on his body. The only real evidence of his time in the tank was his longer than normal nail growth at the end of his fingers and toes, and the longer than usual hair resting on his shoulders.<br/>
His lack of conversation was a concern, but he'd proved he knew who she was and reacted when she spoke his name. Mitch had never been particularly chatty, but all the same, it was different from before.<br/>
She must have dozed because the next instant she was being carried into the shower and set on her feet, warm water sluicing over her head and washing her clean of sweat and sex, a warm soapy cloth being smoothed over her body, gently brushing between her legs and over her backside. Sharing a shower was not unusual behavior after a good session of lovemaking, but Mitch wasn't exactly sharing the shower so much as taking care of her, lifting her feet one at a time to tend to them, making sure every inch of her was clean. His strong fingers scraped over her scalp, the shampoo foaming as he worked it through her hair, Jamie purring as he massaged the soap away under the stream of water. This was something she could readily get used too. All too quickly the water was flicked off and a towel was wrapped around her, Mitch batting her hands away when she tried to dry herself, his brisk rubbing with the towel leaving her tingling. Once more she was lifted off her feet and carried out to the bedroom and placed on one of the hard chairs near the window. Bemused by his behavior, she sat and watched him, still naked, approach the bed, his lip curling at the smell of semen and sex covering the bedding. In a surprising move, he reached down and bundled up the bedding in his fists, pulling it off the mattress. Instead of discarding it, he held it to his face and noisily inhaled the musky aroma for several seconds. Jamie's eyes opened wide to see his previously quiescent cock rise and stiffen, an audible growl issuing from deep inside him, his face still buried in the sheets. Jamie shivered at the sound, something inside her responding to the possessive, deep sound, her tingling skin heating in anticipation of its meaning.<br/>
Discarding the crumpled, sex-soaked sheets, Mitch swung around to the cupboard, surprising her again by pulling out a clean sheet from the top shelf and rapidly replacing the soiled bedding with fresh, throwing the pillows back before turning to face her, intent clear on his features. Jamie gulped and stood up, her still damp hair brushing against her back.<br/>
The tender folds between her legs started to pulse the closer he came, his hand reaching out for hers, clasping her fingers and tugging her forward. Despite knowing she was sore and tired, she let him pull her towards the bed, her feet dragging over the carpet until they stopped, Jamie looking up with some trepidation, into his face.<br/>
“Mitch? I know you're all...um...ready for another go, but I really need a rest to recover...” her plea was silenced when he kissed her, not with the ravening passion of before, but with another emotion, a gentler kiss that drew her forward to lean against his chest, her arms trapped between them. This was sweetness personified, a delicious meeting of mouths, lips, and tongues in a slow glide over each other, Jamie melting against him to keep the connection, his hands smoothing over her warm skin from her bottom to her nape, burrowing under her hair to cup the base of her skull with long fingers angling her head for better access. This was so different from before she never wanted it to end, following him down as he pulled her onto the mattress, curling his body around hers, making no attempt to force her legs apart despite his rock hard cock poking her in the belly between them.<br/>
This was what she had come to expect from her lover, the tender caring, the unselfish touch of a loving hand, her needs taking precedence over his despite his obviously aroused state. Her whole body relaxed and melded into his, her hands stroking over his chest and shoulders, touching his jaw and face, nails scraping over the scruff still evident. This was her Mitch.<br/>
He was giving off waves of heat so that she never noticed the lack of covers, his body acting as a radiator, keeping her warm, wrapping her around with his arms and legs, protective and secure.<br/>
Trusting him, she let go of her fears and relaxed completely, sinking into the mattress and letting go of consciousness.<br/>
<br/>
Outside the apartment, Gaspard Alves studied the thermal image of the two bodies inside, now laying on the bed. A team of heavily armed men was lined up on either side of the corridor, prepared to move at a moment's notice, poised and ready to apprehend the creature they believed was inside.<br/>
“He's settled down with the woman on the bed, all other activity now ceased. Do you still want to secure him?” He asked, turning to the other man.<br/>
Delavane shook his head. “He's where he can be the least trouble. While he is satisfied with possessing her, he's not likely to feel threatened. Think of him as an alpha dog, having secured his bitch. If nobody interrupts he's happy, but if anyone tries to attempt dominance or steal his female, he'll react accordingly. For now, let us leave him in his den and keep watch. One or the other will have to come out for food at some time. Let the security personnel know not to approach him, or them. Give them a wide berth and watch how he behaves. Until we know more, we are studying him as we would any animal, to see how this can be turned to our advantage. For all we know, Mitch Morgan is the cure we've been striving for. I don't want him shot because someone got trigger happy or got in his way in a false sense of misplaced chivalry.”<br/>
“What if they try to leave?” one of the security team asked. “Do we stop them?”<br/>
“Distribute tranquilizer guns to every team. If they can't be prevented from leaving the confines of this building, then dart the girl. If he follows an animal behavior pattern, he'll stay and protect her making it easier to restrain him.” Delevane ordered, turning to leave. The security team followed, then Gaspard, after checking the infrared display again, one of the figures on the bed lifting its head as if sensing him. Muttering to himself about letting mad dogs roam the halls, he shut off the device and followed the others.<br/>
<br/>
Mitch raised his head, careful not to disturb his sleeping mate. He sniffed the air, sensing the men outside the room, his enhanced acuity counting the number of heat signatures, and the level of threat they represented. He tasted the air, cataloging the individual scents, recognizing one of them as the tall, dark-skinned man Thomas Delevane. He knew the other man but only from his voice, the conversation that he'd overhead still clear in his memory. They were no threat to him, but the other men, the ones smelling of gun oil and sweat waiting lined up against the walls were more of a physical threat to him, Still, they had already moved further away, all of them gone in a matter of minutes since he'd detected them. With the potential threat gone, he turned back to look at his sleeping female, his cock still straining to plant his seed in her, but common sense reigning in his impulses to let her sleep and recover. He knew her body as well, if not better than his own, her texture and scents intimately familiar to him. She was like a banquet of tastes and smells, her heartbeat a rhythm that dictated his own. It had taken him a minute or two to drag the memory of her to the forefront of his brain after he left the tank, his first instinct, after he'd disposed of the rival male, was to take her there and then, but he'd understood her urgency to get him away from danger and decided to wait until a more opportune time and place presented itself. When it did, he'd taken over control and let his driving need overwhelm everything else. She hadn't resisted, which was just as well as his impulse was to take what he wanted without heed. If she'd put up a fight he'd have had to restrain her and she would have been needlessly injured in the ensuring coupling. Instead, she'd allowed him the leeway to take what he needed, to plunder and ravage until he was spent or her body broken. In the end, her quiet request for him to stop, adding an explanation, gave his brain a chance to catch up with his rampant urges, giving her the relief she needed. He felt no guilt to use her that way it was what she was made for, biologically speaking, but he felt satisfied enough to do what was needed afterward, to tend to her body, clean her, refresh the sheets and let her sleep. He would keep watch in case the males outside returned, putting the time until his mate awoke to good use, starting with sorting through his memories of his life before, to discover what he was going to do next.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<br/>
Logan stood with his tray and stared around the room, looking for familiar faces. Instead of seeing the one he wanted to, he saw the Auvegen security chief sitting off to the side. Weaving through the tables, he approached and sat down.<br/>
“Hey,” Logan grunted, picking up a fork to attack his food.<br/>
Geoff Black looked up from his meal and nodded, instantly ignoring the younger man. They ate in companionable silence until Logan pushed his plate away.<br/>
“Have you seen Jamie or Mitch lately?”<br/>
Geoff looked up and frowned. “I've been on night shift for weeks. Unless they come looking for me, I'm not likely to see them.”<br/>
“Same with me. With the repeated attack on the fences, I've forgotten what the sun looks like.”<br/>
Geoff downed the last of his coffee, checking his watch for how much longer he had before the start of his shift. “The last I heard from Jamie, she was looking into ways to get Mitch out of the medical center.”<br/>
“He's sick?” Logan asked.<br/>
Geoff shook his head. “Weeks ago, he was involved in some sort of animal attack. You really are out of the loop!”<br/>
Logan scowled. “If I was paranoid I'd think it was on purpose, but I still get to see you guys on and off,”<br/>
“Jamie came to see me, to ask for my help, but without clearance, I have no access to any of the floors other than the barracks and here.”<br/>
“And that was weeks ago?” Logan pressed. Geoff nodded.<br/>
“Haven't seen Jamie since, and no word or even a rumor about Mitch.”<br/>
Logan leaned forward. “Doesn't that worry you?”<br/>
“What worries me, kid is if we don't hold the perimeter, we will all be overrun by mutts and hybrids with no one surviving.”<br/>
Logan stared at the security chief, seeing the lines of strain scored deep into the man's face. “That bad, huh?”<br/>
“The truth?” He waited for Logan to nod. “The truth, kid, is that things are getting to a point that unless something is cooked up by the brains, none of us are going to live through the winter.”<br/>
Packing up his empty containers, Geoff got to his feet and walked the short distance to the waste and recycling bins. As he dumped his tray on the pile he turned and stopped dead. The very people Logan and he had been talking about had just made an entrance.<br/>
<br/>
Jamie clutched at Mitch's hand, nerves making her skittish, her head turning to stare back at the people seated around the cafeteria tables.<br/>
“We're the center of attention,” she whispered, not letting him go. Mitch squeezed her fingers and pulled her forward to approach the food counter.<br/>
Mitch had awoken her with a single word - “Hungry”. Despite her best efforts to dissuade him, he'd insisted they needed to leave the apartment to find food, Jamie afraid that they'd be ambushed the moment they stepped out of the room. Mitch had allayed her fears with his air of confidence, and his smile when she tried to explain what could be waiting for them, bordered on patronizing. They'd dressed, Mitch's clothes a little loose on his leaner frame, his jeans sitting low on his hips, but they fit well enough. Jamie dressed for a hasty escape if it became necessary, her clothing choices practical for a quick getaway. The corridor outside their room was empty, as was the lift when it arrived, the trip down to the cafeteria level accomplished without incident. It was as if someone had known they were on the move and cleared a pathway for them, which if she'd only known it was exactly what was being done. Security cameras monitored their every move. Jamie stared around the room when they entered the eating hall, the members of staff having a meal all turning to stare at them when the door swung closed behind them. She wanted to hang back, not liking that everyone was looking at them but Mitch seemed unconcerned, tugging her forward to approach the counter. He looked confused for a moment until Jamie reached past him to pick up a tray, moving it along the ledge and picking up prepacked food items as she went. Mitch copied her and soon his tray was laden with items until there wasn't room for more. Stoically ignoring the voices whispering behind them, she carried her tray over to an empty table, Mitch following, and sat down. She saw a movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head to see Logan jump up out of his chair and start to weave between the tables towards theirs.<br/>
“Hey, Jamie!”<br/>
Jamie had no time to warn him before Mitch's tray hit the tabletop with a clatter and he had crossed the short space between him and Logan, pinning the younger man against one of the supporting pillars, Logan choking and kicking his feet, lifted several inches off the ground by Mitch's hand around his throat.<br/>
The room collectively held its breath and Jamie turned to see the swing doors open, several black-clad figures entering at a rush, guns raised. As if in slow motion she stood up, but Geoff Black was already there, talking in a quiet voice to Mitch, urging him to let Logan go. Mitch did so with a sudden opening of his fist, Logan falling to the floor in a heap to lay gasping. Jamie made no move to help Logan, comprehending with her new understanding of Mitch that he had seen Logan as a threat and was simply protecting her, his mate, from possible harm. Somehow Geoff understood this as well and maintained a submissive posture while talking Mitch down from strangling Logan. Jamie turned back to see what the security team was doing, finding them backing away through the swing doors and out of sight. It confirmed what she suspected, that Delavane had them both under tight surveillance, ready to take Mitch down if he stepped over a line that they predetermined. Mitch broke off his one-sided conversation with his former security chief to glance over his shoulder at Jamie, then the swing doors as they slowly closed. Everyone else in the room drew a breath, the hum of voices rising as they returned to their meals.<br/>
Jamie lowered herself back into her seat, waiting for Mitch to return to the table, a sympathetic glance sent to Logan before she turned her attention to her meal.<br/>
Mitch stood unmoved as Geoff crouched down to help Logan, the younger man using his feet to scrabble away from Mitch, his hands at his injured throat. Satisfied he'd made his message clear, Mitch walked back to the table and sat down, smiling at Jamie as if he hadn't just tried to kill a potential rival.<br/>
After Geoff helped get Logan as far away as possible, he returned and, keeping his movement small, pulled out a nearby chair, expecting to sit at their table. Mitch carried on eating, one eye on his former friend as he approached.<br/>
“Can I join you?” Geoff asked, keeping his voice low and deferential. Mitch nodded after a moment's hesitation, then carried on eating. Jamie ignored Geoff's arrival, not wanting to show the man any partiality in front of Mitch.<br/>
Seating himself a little way from the table itself, Geoff forcibly relaxed his muscles to appear as least challenging as possible. He avoided looking at Jamie directly but spoke to her instead.<br/>
“Everything okay?” he asked, looking at neither of them specifically.<br/>
“As you see, we found a way,” Jamie told him, raising her head to look at Mitch who was already staring back at her, watching how she reacted to the newcomer. The fact he hadn't mauled Geoff was due to their long, past association. He recognized an ally when he saw one.<br/>
Geoff spoke again. “Something's new.”<br/>
Jamie smiled to herself. “Everything's new. We're not particularly communicative at the moment.”<br/>
Geoff nodded. “With that display of speed and strength, he doesn't need to be. Are you okay?”<br/>
It warmed her that he was concerned. “Better than expected. I'm just taking a little time to get used to my new pack leader. I'd advise anyone else you know to do the same.”<br/>
Geoff nodded again, understanding that Jamie was warning him. Mitch may look as if he'd just returned from a very expensive spa, his body toned and honed, but Geoff recognized an alpha predator when he saw one. Mitch had a whole new set of skills and Jamie was now off-limits to everyone.<br/>
<br/>
Delevane stared at the man on the screen. “We are putting protective measures in place. So far he hasn't attempted to leave the building and appears more interested in his partner, Jamie Campbell than anything else.”<br/>
The man on the screen frowned. “And apart from that one incident?”<br/>
Delevane nodded. “Nothing since, but also he hasn't been threatened or approached by anyone. The staff has been advised to give the pair a wide berth and not to engage. I think we need to forget about using Doctor Morgan as a part of the brain trust, and just view him as an asset. If we handle this correctly, we'll have his co-operation, just not his participation.”<br/>
General Andrew Davies leaned forward, his face filling the screen. “We don't have time to pussyfoot around this issue. The hybrid virus has mutated past the effects of the Noah Objective. Even if we release the gas today, it will only reduce the animal life initially infected. It's been shown to be useless against these new hybrids. If Mitch Morgan is a weapon we can use against them, then take what you need and fuck it.”<br/>
Delevane stared back, shaking his head. “That would be a mistake. If we can create a serum using his blood, we could get ahead of this pandemic.”<br/>
Davies let out a bark of laughter. “You're losing your nerve, Thomas. Take him down, use what you need, and move on. We have little time to worry about the consequences, get it done.”<br/>
“And that line of thinking is what got us into this situation in the first place. We could have a solution to both problems within our grasp. I don't need your permission, Davies, I just need you to hold off killing what could be a necessary part of the solution.”<br/>
“You have a month. If you can't prove that the combination of pre and post hybrids in a host gives us a cure, then at least I will have cut our opponents down by half.” He reached forward on the screen and it went black, the line severed. Delavane sat back in his chair and stared blankly at the monitor. He understood Doctor Morgan's loathing of Andrew Davies, but with the man on another continent, and no travel between the two, it was next to impossible to remove him or affect the outcome of the gas release. It would seem he had to move up the timeline and start using Mitch as a lab rat to find out his secrets.<br/>
<br/>
Mitch sat in a reclining chair watching his blood flow from his arm to a collecting bag. The lab technician monitoring the procedure approached him cautiously, the security team not relaxing their vigil as the tech removed the needle, sealed the bag, and carried it away. In a similar chair nearby, Jamie lay sedated.<br/>
They had been ambushed in one of the corridors, Mitch knowing it was to happen but unable to take down so many armed attackers, Jamie falling at the first shot, a feathered dart in her back dropping her to the floor. Leashing his tendency to rend and tear, he instead surrendered without a fight, watching as they loaded his mate onto a gurney and wheeled her to a laboratory, Mitch in close attendance, unfettered and untouched, but metaphorically chained to the woman at his side. After seeing how gently the medical staff cared for her, Mitch did what was asked and submitted to having his vitals noted and blood taken. He could see Delevane and his cohorts standing behind a window of toughened glass, Mitch baring his teeth at the man, a warning not to push too hard or suffer the consequences.<br/>
After everything had been taken that they needed, Mitch was released and Jamie along with him. Now they were back in the apartment with Jamie sleeping off the tranquilizer and Mitch plotting how he was going to get out of the complex, the sooner the better.<br/>
Beyond the glass window, he looked down on the fence keeping the hybrids and mutts out and the humans safe. He could feel his connection to the other razorbacks prowling the perimeter, looking for a way to get in, like a silk thread being constantly tugged in his brain. He wanted to get away from the threats surrounding him but he also needed to keep his mate safe and face any challenge to his leadership. The young man had been no contest, the older friend not even trying to challenge. What Mitch wanted was to build up a pack but to do that they'd need to be like him and have a foot in both worlds, the human one on the way out and the hybrid one just starting to take over. As exhilarating as it was to give in to his animalistic self, he knew he'd need to call on his more human traits to find a solution to his current problem.<br/>
A sound behind him alerted him that Jamie was awakening from her drug-induced sleep. Padding over to the bed he sat on the side and took one of her hands in his. He smiled down at her when her eyes slowly opened and blinked up at him.<br/>
“Hey,” he said, squeezing her fingers when alarm flashed briefly in her eyes. “You're fine. Just had a short sleep.”<br/>
“Damn them. What did they do?”<br/>
“Used you to keep me in line,” he told her bluntly. Jamie winced.<br/>
“Sorry. You need to find a way out of this place, it's not safe...”<br/>
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Already working on it. They have what they wanted, more than enough to figure out a solution, so there is no more need for us to stay.”<br/>
Jamie stared up at him. “You have a plan?”<br/>
He grinned. “Just a few things to sort out, but yes, I have a plan.”<br/>
“Oh. Good. Anything I can do to help?” she asked, her lips tilting in a small smile, her brain still foggy from the sedative.<br/>
Mitch shook his head. “I need to gather some stuff together and get in touch with Geoff. You just need to rest and let me do the heavy lifting.”<br/>
Jamie gave him a look. “You do know that this is the most you've said since you left the tank. Have you been holding out on me?”<br/>
“Not deliberately. I had some stuff to sort out in my head. You could liken it to a system reboot with some interesting new apps installed. I needed to relearn and allow the new stuff to settle in before it got more manageable.”<br/>
“New stuff?” Jamie queried, reaching up to touch his face. “Like no more glasses?”<br/>
“Something like that. There are aspects of me that are nothing like before, but also a whole lot that is the same.”<br/>
“And that show you put on with Logan?” she asked, pushing herself back against the pillow to sit up higher.<br/>
“He needed to know you were no longer available. I didn't hurt him...much.” Mitch looked smug and Jamie swatted his arm.<br/>
“You scared the living daylights out of him, and Geoff, let alone me and the rest of the people in the room.”<br/>
“It was a necessary move so that Delevane and his ilk don't think I'm anything more than a devolved human, an animal.”<br/>
“You had me fooled,” she grumbled, shifting. Mitch nudged her with his elbow.<br/>
“Good. I'm going to have to go out and about while you stay here.” He looked out of the window, seeing the sun almost gone below the horizon. “Don't lock the window.”<br/>
<br/>
Geoff stared out into the night, the last remnants of the sunset still visible in the clouds overhead. Up in the tower, he was in the shadows, the fence illuminated below but not where he sat. A faint noise behind him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.<br/>
“Relax, Geoff. I'm not going to eat you.”<br/>
“You trying to give me a heart attack?” he rumbled back, waiting for the intruder to show himself. He did, but only to become another shadow occupying his roost.<br/>
“Can you regroup your former team?” Mitch asked.<br/>
“They split us up, but I can contact them.”<br/>
Geoff felt a sharp jab sting his arm. “Ow. What was that?”<br/>
“Something to protect you. You won't survive a minute beyond the fence without it. That goes for anyone that comes with us.”<br/>
“Anything I should worry about? Side effects?”<br/>
He heard Mitch chuckle in the darkness. “No idea, you're the first to try it.” He saw the shadow move. “Speak my name when you get off shift and back in the cafeteria, I'll meet you there, whatever time of day or night.”<br/>
“Mitch? Are you sure?” But only the night and its noises replied, Mitch gone as silently as he'd arrived. Geoff absently rubbed at his arm where he'd been injected, wondering what the hell he was infected with now.<br/>
<br/>
Over the next series of nights, Mitch visited each of the former security team after meeting with Geoff and learning their shift times. His and Jamie's appearance at the cafeteria barely raised a murmur, taking their meal with Geoff with none of the former intensity, Mitch behaving like his previously amiable self, raising no alarms with those watching him or around him. For himself, he took on board everything Geoff could tell him before the left, Mitch noting the changes taking place in his friend even if they weren't apparent to anyone else.<br/>
Geoff was starting to feel the effects of the injection, seeing the world and sensing it in a way he suspected Mitch did, to a much greater degree. When he was on watch his senses were more acute, more heightened, and aware of the greater world around the building and beyond the defended perimeter. As each member of his team was visited by Mitch, he felt them 'come online' as he likened it to, building a network between them with Mitch at the head. With his heightened perception of the people around him, he was able to pinpoint those that would be a threat and those that would submit, as if he had a route into their emotions and thoughts, sorting the populace into combatants and NPC's. During his contact with Mitch at mealtimes, the conversation was largely non-verbal between them, the camera's watching them continually unable to pick up the subtleties despite close attention.<br/>
Delevane suspected but could find no evidence, his own superiors dismissing his suggestions as seeing ghosts and jumping at shadows. The testing taking place on the samples given by Mitch was showing early results, but when a human subject was tested they inexplicably stopped being co-operative in the trial and had to be abandoned and a new subject tried. Apart from the physical changes – the subjects given the serum all being men – the scientists were almost completely unaware of the changes in the brain, of the enhancements to eyesight and senses, of the connection to the mental network that happened first. Once connected to the hybrid hive mind, the test subjects changed their point of view, understanding the motives and imperatives of the men controlling the scientists and their work, and universally signing on with the new order growing in number every day.<br/>
When Mitch Morgan finally decided the day had come to leave, he had an army of evolved hybrid humans prepared to leave the confines of the university and find their place in the world changing around them.<br/>
<br/>
Thomas Delevane read over the reports, attempting to connect the dots but being frustrated at every turn. Despite frequent talks with other members of the IADG, Amelia Sage, and even Andrew Davies, there was little progress in finding a cure for the animal pandemic. All around the world, creatures were taking back their ancestral habitats, driving what was left of the human population out of their towns and cities, aided by the influx of hybrid monstrosities that seemed programmed to take over and go beyond where the natural fauna left off. The animals involved in the initial revolution apparently had accomplished what they wanted, turning on their masters and rejecting the limits placed on them by mankind, the defiant pupil, and the mutations that manifested after giving them an edge over their former human exploiters.<br/>
Now the hybrids were multiplying and aggressively demolishing anything left behind or they came across. Only those humans exposed to the hybrid spore were accepted as accomplices to the hybrid creations, the rest of humanity left to build what fortified enclaves they could create in time before being overrun, killed, or incorporated. Without the knowledge of the scientific community to warn them, many succumbed to the waterborne spore, the physically weak perishing within days of ingestion, unable to make the necessary changes, the stronger becoming either a part of the hybrid collective or, in special circumstances, evolved because of previous exposure to the first wave, like Mitch. According to the most recent data able to be collected, the human race had been decimated all across the world, leaving behind small clusters in select cities where access to food and essentials had been safeguarded early on.<br/>
Putting aside the demoralizing report, he pulled over a folder and opened that, his tired eyes skimming over the words of his lead scientist and his summation of progress. They were running out of test subjects and the serum created from Mitch Morgan's blood. It would soon be time to harvest more. Closing his eyes, Thomas rubbed at them, feeling the grittiness beneath his lids. He sensed a presence and opened them only to see, standing before him, the object of his recent thoughts.<br/>
“Mitch Morgan. How did you...?” he ended the question abruptly. “Never mind. What do you want?”<br/>
Mitch smiled at his former friend. “Just to say goodbye. You've had all you're going to get from me, Thomas. I'll leave you with a parting farewell, but nothing more.”<br/>
“Aren't you being a little overconfident? I only have to summon my men...”<br/>
Mitch cocked a dark eyebrow. “Your men? I think you'll find there are not many left of those.”<br/>
Thomas shrugged. “If you leave here, how do you expect to survive out there? Humanity and civilization have completely broken down. We are being hunted to extinction.”<br/>
Mitch shrugged. “You, maybe, but not everyone. Like the dinosaurs of old, you didn't learn to adapt. What is happening to our planet is not a surprise to anyone that cared to listen. The signs were always out there, we just chose the wrong future. Ask Robert Oz, I'm sure he'd be able to give you chapter and verse. He saw this coming, why didn't you?”<br/>
“Robert Oz?” Delevane flicked a glance behind Mitch, the man now standing in the room raising the gun in his hand. “He's a crackpot.”<br/>
Mitch smiled. “Robert Oz is the Nostradamus of our time. He predicted this.”<br/>
Delavane let his lips rise in a grim parody of a smile. “Whatever he did or did not do, it won't help you now. Alves?”<br/>
The dart gun spat and Delevane expected to see Mitch fall, instead the dart ended up in his own chest, the blur of Mitch moving lost in a blink of time, the gun knocked out of his henchman's hand, the Frenchman sent flying to hit the wall hard and slump to the floor, disarmed and unconscious.<br/>
Thomas looked down at the feathered dart lodged in his chest, numbness spreading outwards, his heart slowing as the drug started to work, his lungs laboring to overcome the paralysis, and allow him to breathe.<br/>
Watching from the other side of the room, Mitch noted the gradual lack of movement until the man's lungs ceased altogether, the faint heartbeat stopping, a look of surprise frozen on the black man's face even as death claimed him.<br/>
Mitch moved forward until he was close enough to feel for a pulse, finding it absent as he expected. Alves had loaded the dart with a dose large enough to take down an elephant, the effect on the man at the desk completely lethal given where it lodged.<br/>
Pushing the dead man in his seat away from the monitor, Mitch opened a document and typed his message. Whoever found the body would also find his final message, what they did with it was their own business.<br/>
<br/>
Mitch met his small army of hybrid humans at the main gate. Jamie was already there, flanked by Logan on one side, Tom on the other. Geoff stood ready to open the gate when Mitch gave the signal. Their previous convoy of vehicles stood fully fueled and supplied, augmented by several additions to the armored fleet to accommodate the newly incorporated into their ranks. Each man had been given the choice, very few had refused the offer.<br/>
Jamie stepped forward, reaching out to take his hand. “Aren't we just condemning them to death?” she asked, her eyes clouded.<br/>
Mitch shook her head. “I've left them a new formula for a cure.”<br/>
“Will they become like you? Like us?”<br/>
“No. They will be immune to the spore, certainly, and not transform into the proto hybrids of the earlier evolution, but they will not be like us.”<br/>
“What are we, then?”<br/>
Mitch looked around at the group heading out with him and his men. “We're the start of something new, Jamie girl. The end of one world and the creation of another.”<br/>
<br/>
The convoy slowly drove through the gates, the windows of every floor of the building behind them lined with the faces of people still inside. Beyond the gate, a crowd of creatures both native and hybrid watched silently as the cars rolled slowly by. The last vehicle stopped and the men inside got out to secure the gate once more before climbing back on board and quickly catching up with the others. As soon as that was done the silent watchers, animal, human and hybrid closed in behind the last car, facing the fence and the building they'd just left. After a moment they all turned away from the barrier in front of them and started to melt away into the hillside greenery, quickly gone from sight. Inside the building, the scientific community breathed a sigh of relief, the Frenchman, Gaspard Alves watching longer than the others, his attention drawn to the desk behind him and the insistent flash of the light indicating an incoming signal needing to be answered. With his boss dead, he now carried the responsibility of bringing the people on the other side of the world up to date with what had happened. Some of it good news, most of it bad.<br/>
<br/>
Jamie stared out of the side window of the backseat of the lead car, noting that a pack of the hybrid Razorbacks was shadowing the convoy, running easily beside the armored cars, dodging and leaping over any obstacles.<br/>
“Where are we heading?” she asked, leaning sideways to rest her head on Mitch's shoulder.<br/>
“Sorry, did I forget to mention it?”<br/>
Jamie smiled. “No, you didn't forget, you just didn't tell me.”<br/>
Mitched smiled back. “Well. If we're going to save what's left of the human race I need to find Abigail Westbrooke and find out what her end game is. She probably didn't reckon on this happening, meaning she expected her hybrids to wipe out the human race altogether. I intend to stop that. We need to find a set up to replicate the serum and start distribution to give those that survived a future, and maybe find a way to get us over to Europe to do the same there.”<br/>
“Mitch Morgan saves the world.” Jamie teased, smiling. “Never doubted you could do it.”<br/>
He glanced down at her head, reaching for her hand. “How are you feeling?”<br/>
Jamie glanced down at her stomach, her hand cradling her abdomen. “Surprisingly well, given the circumstances. I wasn't prepared for this.”<br/>
Mitch leaned over and rested his hand atop hers. “Given the overwhelming biological drive, it was something I should have expected. Sorry.”<br/>
Jamie tilted her head back to look at him. “Don't be. It rounds off a spectacular year. From mistress to armageddon to mission-to-save-the- human-race. I think I have the start of a new book in there.”<br/>
Mitch chuckled. “Might be a while before the publishing houses are back up and running again.”<br/>
“Doesn't matter. One day they will.”<br/>
Mitch stared out the window over her head, his eyes closing as he concentrated on the world outside, his plan playing out behind his eyes, the minds around him absorbing the information, digesting and sorting out their place in the future he wanted to create, a new world pared back from the old building on the understanding that the planet came first, its recovery the priority, the nurturing of the environment essential for the survival of every living thing on its surface. It would be a massive undertaking, but they had all the time in the world to achieve it.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
X x x x<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<br/>
Epilogue - A Year or so later<br/>
<br/>
Jamie walked away from the caravan towards the large tents set up in the former sprawling Walmart carpark. The child perched on her hip chortled and tugged at the long plait hanging over her shoulder. She had woven several colored beads into the strands of red-gold hair to amuse her daughter, a sort of portable, can't-be-lost toy that endlessly entertained the baby. She could hear Mitch speaking into the microphone, his voice gravelly from all the talking he'd been doing that morning. The convoy that had left Montreal so long ago, looked more like a traveling circus with a motley collection of accommodation vehicles now attached to the armored trucks, plus motorhomes and bigger trucks to carry all their gear like the tents. One was a mobile surgery, another a traveling pharmacy.</p>
<p>She entered the shade of the tent and approached the bank of equipment that made up their portable communication center. She felt a warm wave sweep through her mind, the baby giving a happy burble to see and feel her father. Nodding to the support staff, Jamie found a vacant camp chair and sat down, positioning the baby for a feed. She watched Mitch work, loving the perfect peace that emanated from him as he wound up his call to Europe. At length, he sat back in his chair and reached to switch off the mike.<br/>
“They're closing in on her. Won't be long before she's locked up.” He announced, lifting his hands to link them behind his head.<br/>
Jamie looked down at the child tugging at her breast. “About time.”<br/>
Mitch watched mother and baby, a smile tilting his lips. Another wave of warmth and love swept over her and Jamie looked up, meeting his dark gaze with luminous eyes. The hunt for Abigail Westbrooke had taken far longer than it should, the different factions in Europe proving, in places, to be intractable, wanting to hold on to their power in a world that was no longer the same as before. Despite their trip by freighter to Paris and the distribution of the serum, there were still warlords who preferred to shoot than accept the inevitable. With the spread of serum and the loss of support from those that remained plus the military supporting them, the factions had been disbanded one by one. Even Abigail had finally been run to ground by her own brother, no less.</p>
<p>Jackson Oz had been an early voluntary serum taker, his wife Chloe, and friend Abe doing the same. With the addition of the former ranger, Dariela, the group of friends had taken on the task of finding Abigail, Jackson's half-sister. While they traveled around the European continent they also spread the serum, covering as much ground as possible. What remained of the continental population was now either dead or evolved, joining the collective hive mind and living very differently to the way they had before. In the cities and towns, the animal population routinely outnumbered the humans, a new way of integrating one with the other starting to grow and expand. Resources from the old world were shared among those survivors that remained, a new sense of purpose to rebuild their lives and communities.<br/>
When they returned from Europe, docking in New York, they returned briefly to Auvegen to make use and collect equipment that could be reworked to run off solar power, some technology from the old world still needed to prevent everything being lost. Mitch's traveling medical convoy traversed up and down the country to reach isolated pockets and pass on the benefits of the serum, at the same time creating a census of population numbers and communities, producing an overall picture of what had happened, and what could be done with what was left.<br/>
Mitch was no longer the only hive nexus, but he would always be the alpha, and as each group of people was incorporated into the whole, the levels of barbarism, destruction, and hopelessness eased. Traveling became more leisurely with the numbers in the convoy growing. As they moved from city to city, broadcasting their message of hope, people joined and jumped off, remaining connected but choosing to settle, making the most of the opportunities now available to them. It wasn't perfect but it worked for the right now. What a few more years would bring remained to be seen. For now, the animal apocalypse was over, the hybrid invasion curbed and contained in as much as they no longer were trying to wipe every human on the planet.</p>
<p>A new race of people was starting to take over from the old world and the hope was for a fresh start without making the old mistakes.</p>
<p><br/>
Jamie unlatched her baby from her breast and lifted her onto her shoulder to bring up any wind. Mitch got up and came over, crouching down in front of her. A shot of pure lust made her gasp, her eyes widening.<br/>
“I hope you kept that just between us!”<br/>
Mitch smirked. “A little trick I learned. Focused projection. Like it?”<br/>
Jamie rolled her eyes. “I can see how that could be something I could get used to.” She kept up her petting of her daughter, who obligingly gave a polite burp before settling again. “This little one will be needing a nap soon. Interested?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at Mitch.<br/>
“Always,” he replied. “I'll meet you at the trailer.”<br/>
Jamie nodded and got up, turning away to exit the communications tent and gently amble towards their caravan. She would be glad when they finally reached a place to settle. The caravan was fine for now, but she would be so pleased when they no longer had to be responsible for saving the rest of the world. Mitch promised it wouldn't be too much longer, a promise she'd hold him too. As she walked she acknowledged the people around her, the ever-present team of helpers and aides that surrounded them. There was no shouting or calling out, they simply raised a hand, or nodded, exchanging a thought of greeting before carrying on, an overall feeling of contentment and peace underlying each.<br/>
On a deeper level, she still mourned the loss of life, of all the innocents, the entire generation of elderly that were lost at the start, along with many of the babies and young children that simply didn't survive, but she didn't mourn the loss of the violence, the dissent and lack of peace that the world had suffered from, in every corner of the globe. The hybrid hive mind had initiated peace on a worldwide scale, the animal apocalypse had reduced the overpopulated planet to a level unknown in modern times. Resources were no longer under extreme pressure. Nature was taking back the previously over industrialized centers, overcrowded suburbs, and empty slums. Peace reigned in areas of the world that had never known anything but constant war. The world was quiet, only the barest needed links of communications kept open, technology largely silenced and money no longer having a place or purpose. Nobody had all the answers, but it was nice to think there was a future to look forward to, one that was less stressful, less violent, and, as the world healed and went back to the business of living together in hybridized harmony, Jamie Campbell wasn't wishing the old world back.<br/>
Placing her child in its crib, she stared down at the scrap that was one of the first hybrid-humans to be born. Hope Campbell-Morgan snuffled in her sleep, dreaming contented baby dreams, her future in the hands of her parents, a new world forming around her even as she slept.<br/>
Mitch entered the trailer and came over to stand beside his former mistress and now the mate of his heart.<br/>
“She is the first of her generation,” Mitch murmured, pressing a kiss on Jamies' neck. “To her, knowing nothing of the past, it will be the only generation that counts.”<br/>
They stood there admiring their daughter, sharing back and forth the feelings between them.<br/>
“Care to start work on the next one?” Mitch suggested, giving her waist a squeeze.<br/>
“I feel almost guilty to feel so contented when the world is still such a mess. And yes, another child would be nice, although I have a feeling your plans for an extended family have already been started.”<br/>
Mitch turned his head to stare at her. “Hmmm, so...care to get in some practice? I have a little present for you.” He pulled his hand out from behind his back and presented her with a bouquet of flowers, not quite on the scale of his previous offerings, but Jamie didn't care.<br/>
“They're beautiful.” She inhaled deeply, the smell of growing things filling her with joy and love, so deep and strong it spilled out, touching everyone close enough to feel it. Turning she clutched the love token and looped her arms around his neck. “I think we have about an hour before this young lady demands my attention once more.”<br/>
“Then what are we waiting for!” Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her the short distance to the end of the caravan and the bed. Making sure the curtains and blinds were closed before starting to peel off every stitch, they finally came together on the covers, the air sparkling around them, infused with everything they felt for each other.<br/>
<br/>
Outside, the area around the caravan rapidly emptied of people, Logan hurrying away to find something else to do until his friends were done. Geoff appeared from another direction, just as eager to give the lovers their privacy.<br/>
“One day, I hope to find something that comes close to what they have,” Geoff said, slapping Logan on the back and steering the younger man further away. “Care for something to eat?”<br/>
Logan shrugged and grinned. “Why not? Can't do a damn thing for another hour or so anyway.”<br/>
Geoff laughed and pointed them both in the direction of the food truck.<br/>
<br/>
The end.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>